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A  YEAR    IN   PORTUGAL:    1889-1890 
G,    Loring 


Published  on  demand  by 
UNIVERSITY    MICROFILMS    INTERNATIONAL 

Ann  Arbor,  Michigan,  U.S.  A.  ■  London,  England 


""^m^^m^^^^^^^Bm^m^^m^^^m 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


This  is  an  authorized  facsimile  of  the  original  book, 

and  was  produced  in  1977  by  microfihn-xerography 

by  University  Microfihns  International 

Ann  Arbor,  Michigan,  U.S.A. 

London,  England 


A  YEAR    IN    PORTUGAL 


889- 1 890 


C.KORCiK    BAIl.hY    I.OKINC,   .Vl.l). 


lAlK    INlim    M.^l^•.    MlM-lh..     IN    lIsllilN 


C.    1".     ITINAM'S    SONS 

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hl«v!i..!Vl":l.  rtir.tel.  i;-  1  Bound  by 


TO 

MY  DAUGHTER 


PREFACE. 

TiiK  following  journal  was  written  during  a  rapid 
jonrncy  to  Portugal  and  a  year's  residence  in  Lisbon 
and    Cintra.     It  also  covers  a  month    spent  in  a  trip 
to  Rome  and  Gibraltar  and  vSevillc.     I  have  not  en- 
deavored   to   discuss   elaborately    the   objects   I    have 
seen,  but   to  give  a  view  of  the  life  of  rn  American 
Minister  abroad,  and  to  let  light  in  upon  the  condition 
of  Portugal,  to  which  Court  I   was  accre<lited.     The 
advantages  one   enjoys   who  travels   in   Ivurope  with 
a  commission  as  a  representative  of  the  United  States, 
or  any  other  power,  are  great  ;  and  I  have  been  en- 
couraged to  believe  that  I  have  familiarly  witnessed 
many  a  scene  wliich  T  should  not  have  etijoyed  had  I 
been  present  as  a  private  citizen.     The  knowledge  of 
Portugal,  moreover,  is  not  extensive,  and  I  have  been 
strongly  inclined  to  sketch  a  country  which  has  a  mo.st 
tlclightlul  climate  and  most  charming  scenery,  is  full  of 
romantic  tradiliojis,  and  has  been  the  theatre  of  S(mie 
of  the  most  remarkable  events  in  history.     From  the 
days  of  I)om  nenricpies  to  the  days  of  l)om   Carlos, 
Portugal   has  contributed    a  large  share  of  the   con- 
tentious history  of  ICurope  ;  and  now,  after  fifty  years 
of  peace,  it  enjoys  an  opportunity  to  become  a  most 
important  kingdom.     If  tliis  journal  conveys,  even  in 
a  small  degree,  the  pleasure   I  enjoyed  in  the  beauti- 
ful scenery  of  Portugal  and  in  viewing  the  memorials 
of  its  greatness,  I  ohall  be  content. 

C.l'.UKC.l'    H.    LORING. 

V 


CONTRNTS. 


CIIAPTKK  I. 

rAUK 

LONU)N  TO  LISBON .         t 

CHAPTHI^   II. 
CiNTRA  AND  MAFKA .29 

CliAPTi;i?    III. 

rOKIlJGUIiSI-:  AdKICIILUlKli,    AUDIIiNCli  WITH  TUf  K'NG. 

bliAIII  dl'  l)(  iM  AIIC.IISTO 4! 

CIlAi'TliU    IV. 

CINTRA,    I'CjKTIKJUI.SI;    III.KOIiS.    DliATlI    AND    FDNIRAL 

or  TIII-:    KIN(J    ,       .       .       ." 63 

CIlAl'iliU    V. 
TORRliS  VliDKAS.    MliMIICA.    AI.COBAr.A         .       .  .       Sy 

CHAl'THR    VI. 
COIMBRA.-CAMOtNS.    DONA  THLLES.-F'OMBAL         .       .      102 

CHAPTHR    VII. 

THt  HtROtS  AND  GAKDIiNS  t  tl"  CINIRA  ...  120 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS. 

cnAi'ii;u  viii. 

fAf.m 

THi;    NOR  (11   or   i'ljKTlKiAI.,      nil;   AIIJIM.    -MR.   K,   W. 

I;MI;KS(JN 143 

c:nAi'Ti:i/  ix. 

AHKiN'AL  OC  DOM  I'LDPO.  I  H!;  i>9i'ADK(jN  OF  EVOLU- 
TION. -  THl;  ACCLAMATION. -TUB  PALACES,  -TMIi 
bINNLR.      nil;  KINC l64 

CflAPIl:!'    X. 

BRAZIL.    D(JM  \'IA)HU.    FINANCIAL  HiLICY.-OHINlON  OF 

AGASSI/..-  CONTROVtRSV  WITH  FN'.iLANU     .       ,      .      1S6 

CHAPiHK    XI. 
GIBRALTAR.    NAPLES.- F'OMPEIl.    POME 200 

CHAPIHK    XII. 
GIIiRALTAR.    TANGII.R     CMtV/..    SEVII.LE 218 

CliAPIhU    XIII. 
LlSBCjN.-ANTK^UlTV.-ARClilTtCTURE.    AN  INTERVIEW    .      239 

CHAPTHR   XIV. 

LITERATURE.    SCULPTURE.-  PALACES.  -COACHES.- POLI- 

TIf:S 253 

CHAPTHR  XV. 
LISBON.    BOSTON 281 

APPENDIX 307 

INDEX 309 


A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

CHAPTHR  1. 

LONIX  )N   r*  )  IJSBON. 

June  lyt/i. — I  left  New  York  for  Lisbon,  as  U.  S. 
Minister  to  Portugal,  on  the  8th  of  June,  and  arrived 
this  inoniing  in  London,   after  the  usual  passage  of 
eight   days  to   Southampton    in  the  Elbe,    and  three 
hours'   rail  to  the   metropolis.     The   sea  is  the  same 
from  one  end  to  the  other  ;  hut  the  land  varies  with 
e\ery   mile,  and  iu'licates  the  character  of  the  people 
who   inhaljit  it.      I'rom  SouthamjUoti   to    London   we 
passed  through  a  most  charming  country,  fresh  \Titli 
June    vegetation,    cultivated    to    the    highest   degree 
—a    market   garden    from  ojie   city   to  the  other.     If 
this   wen;    Ivngland,    no   one   could    ask    for   a    more 
j(jyous    land.       Tlie    endeavor    to    make    the    island 
a  garden  has  not  been  pursued  with  enthusiasm    and 
the  fine  cultivation  and  thrifty  people  and  comfortable 
dwellings  of  this  southern  section  is  the  exceptioti  and 
not   the  rule.     It  was  a  charming   morning  in  early 
summer  when  we  made  our  journey  through  ICngland, 
and  were  borne  into  the  whirl  of  London  to  witness  the 
refreshing  bustle  and  intensity  of  the  town  after  the 
idle  life  of  the  sea.     To  debark  from  our  compartment, 

1 


2  A  Vi:AR  IN  ITil/TlIGAL 

to  shake  hands  with  our  friends  who  had  accompanied 
us  across  the  Atlantic,  to  reach  the  hotel  and  find 
ai)artnients,  was  the  work  of  a  minute,  London  was 
very  full  of  strangers,  the  Ascot  and  the  coming  exhi- 
bition at  Windsor  having  crowded  it  to  overflowing. 
While  I  rested  after  my  journey,  my  family  went  to 
Westminster  Abbey,  Ijound  to  be  introduced  to  London 
without  delay,  and  determined  to  begin  with  the  glory 
of  the  town.  They  returned  to  our  apartments  radi- 
ant with  the  spirit  of  the  Abbey,  eloquent  over  its 
beauty,  and  conversant  with  the  names  of  poets  and 
scholars,  statesmen,  heroes,  and  kings  ])uried  there. 
There  was  a  service  which  charmed  the  ICi)iscopal  side 
of  my  family,  and,  altogether,  their  visit  was  most 
successful,  while  I  was  left  to  remember  that  Canon 
Kingsley  commented  liis  journey  in  America  with  a 
charming  lecture  in  .Salem  on  Westminster  Abbey, 
tlial  we  gave  him  a  baufimt  at  the  Ivssex  Institute, 
and  that  Dean  Stanle;,-  introduced  himself  to  riii  Ameri- 
can audience  with  his  admirable  speech  at  the  t\v(i 
liundred  and  fiftieth  ainiiversary  of  the  landing  of  J(;hn 
ICndicott  at  Xaumkeag. 

I  shall  probably  spend  a  few  days  here,  not  with  the 
hope  of  getting  even  a  Ijird's-eye  view  of  London  or  a 
glimjjse  into  its  society  c^r  a  taste  of  its  quality.  There 
is  too  nuu'h  f<jr  a  lifetime.  And,  moreover,  I  rather 
long  to  get  away  and  betake  myself  to  my  quiet  sphere 
of  duty  in  Lisbon,  where  I  can  take  in  the  situation  en- 
tirely, and  where  there  is  but  one  attraction,  I  am  told, 
— the  lazy  luxury  of  climate  and  scenery  and  repose, 
and  what  Whittier  called  so  charmingly,  "  Old  endeavor 
and  achievement,  romance  and  song." 

Amidst  all  the  smoke  and  filtli  of  the  city,   I  was 


LONDON  TO  LISBON.  3 

Struck  with  the  neatness  of  the  people.  Every  man 
who  pretended  to  wear  a  shirt  wore  a  clean  one. 
Clean  boots,  clothes,  cravats  were  conspicuous  everj'- 
whcre.  The  servants,  with  their  white  collars  and 
neck-cloths  and  black  coats — the  regalia  of  valetdom 
ill  Kngland, — the  clean  table-cloths  in  the  eating-houses, 
the  clean  floors  and  walls,  and  the  clean  well-arranged 
shops,  bade  defiance  to  the  smoky  air  and  the  dingy, 
cloudy,  dripping  sky.  The  well-defined  orders  of  soci-  ■ 
ety  are  impressed  upon  you  every  hour.  The  carriage 
with  its  coronet,  the  hackney-coach,  and  the  street  cab 
all  have  their  place.  As  a  buyer,  the  seller  always 
treats  you  with  respect ;  as  an  eater  at  the  table  of 
a  hotel  or  restaurant,  no  jest  of  yours  is  recognized,  no 
attention  is  expected,  no  acknowledgment  is  ofTered 
by  the  spruce  waiters  wlio  stand  around  you. 

The  s])en(liiig  of  money  in  l/mdon  teaches  you 
much  about  Ivnglish  .society.  It  is  worth  nothing  and 
it  is  worth  everything.  To  those  who  have  it,  its 
temptations  are  powerless  ;  to  those  who  have  it  not, 
the  smallest  representation  of  the  circulating  medium 
is  perfectly  satisfactory.  With  the  traders  and  ])usiness 
men  it  has  very  small  capacity  to  express  value.  You 
cannot  buy  anything  of  high  quality  at  a  reasonable 
rate.  You  can  devour  half  a  sovereign  in  a  twinkling. 
Gold  weighed  against  bread,  necessities,  luxury,  and 
pleasure  sinks  into  insigniticance.  But  when  it  is 
applied  to  the  other  phase  of  society,  its  character 
changes  at  once.  For  the  relief  of  a  beggar,  a  penny 
is  omnipotent.  You  can  avail  yourself  of  the  popular 
modes  of  conveyance  for  next  to  nothing.  Any  article 
stamped  with  poverty,  or  applied  to  its  uses,  .seems  to 
have  no  pecuniary  value  aflixed  to  it.     In  the  comnioa 


4  A  VI;aR  in  ['OF^TUGAL. 

restaurant,  beef  and  beer,  enough  for  a  wood-sawyer, 
cost  about  fourpence — the  same  beer  and  beef,  under 
the  Royal  Arms,  is  invaluable.  Tliis  is  all  significant. 
It  would  disgust  a  peer  to  wear  a  jerkin  costing  a  couple 
of  shillings,  wliile  lie  pays  five  pounds  for  a  jacket  no 
better. 

London  presents  the  most  extraordinary  contrasts. 
rVoni  the  bustle  of  business  you  can  step  at  once  into 
the  most  delightful  seclusion.     Its  parks,  which  you 
come  upon  unexpectedly,   afford    rural  retreats  to  the 
ear  stuiuied,  and  the  foot  wearied,  and  the  eye  dazzled 
with  the   noise   and   stony    hardness    and   constantly 
changing   crowd   of  the   streets.     The   fine   roads  of 
these  parks  afford  admirable  opportunity  for  exercise 
to  the  English  gentlemen  and  their  horses.     On  the 
green  feed  flocks  of  sheep  to  give  an  air  c^f  domestic 
comfort   to    the    scene.       The    tired    citizen    breathes 
their  invigorating  air,  and  the  lu.xurious  traveller  re- 
poses upon  the  richness  of  the  scenery.     The  retreats 
of  students  and  professional  men"  are  quiet  and  ap- 
propriately secluded  in  this  busy,   noisy  city,  whose 
incessant  hum,  resounding  through  these  places  of  re- 
pose, adds  cfTect  to  their  subduing  silence.     Lincoln's 
Inn  iMelds,  where  are  the  nujseuins  of  John  Iliuiter 
and  Sir  Jolui  vSloatie  and  the  Inns  of  the  court,  give  a 
se(jue>tcred  .s})ot  where  the  talent  of  Jinglish  ])hysicians 
and  barristers  may  be  cultivated  without  disturbance 
and  their  scholastic  tastes  may  ]>e  cherished.     I  felt  as 
if  a  new  life  was  breathed  into  me  when  I  rand>led 
]>eyon<l  the  noise  and  filth  of  Newgate  into  the  refine- 
ment of  this  quarter  of  the  city. 

I  have  spent  a  few  hours  in  the  House  of  Conunons 
— a  dull  and  most  uniiiteiestiug  sessjr)n,  where  I  saw 


LONDON  TO  LISBON.  5 

Bradlaugh,  who  came  into  the  gallerj'  to  meet  nie,  and 
who  inquired  after  his  old  friends  in  America.     Last 
evening  I  had  a  long  and  most  interesting  conversa- 
tion with  Mr.  Gladstone  after  a  dinner  given  him  by 
Mr.  Carnegie.     I  asked  him  how  long  it  would  be  be- 
fore a  confederation  would  be  formed  in  the  United 
Kingdom.     In  his  endeavors  to  answer  this  question, 
which  I  have  found  it  ver}-  difficult  for  any  Ivnglishmau 
to  answer,  he  entered  upon  a  discussion  of  American 
affairs  and  the  character  of  our  Constitution.     He  ex- 
pressed his  usual  admiration  of  our  institutions  and  of 
the  policy  on  which  our  government  is  founded.     The 
idea  that  our  civil   organization  was  founded  on  an 
accumulation   of    facts   and    popular   necessities,    and 
grew  out  of  them,  had   impressed  itself  on  his  mind, 
and  he  seemed  inclined  to  believe  that,  while  the  theo- 
rists  and   doctrinaires    were   ojjposed   to    our    federal 
organization,  the  most  practical  man  of  his  time,  the 
best  farmer,  the  bravest  warrior,  tlie  most  successful 
land-surveyor,  secured  the  adoption  of  the  charter  of 
our  rights  and  privileges,  and  that  it  was  Washington 
alone  who  gave  us  our  Constitution.     He  said  he  had 
watched  with  great  interest  Mr.  Brj'ce's  excursion  to 
America  to  give  a  sketch  of  our  institutions  ;  and  when 
I  ventured  to  refer  to  De  Tocqueville  as  having  writ- 
ten, half  a  century  ago,  the  best  analysis  of  our  gov- 
ernment and  laws,  he  remarked  that  l)e  Tocfjueville 
was  a  genius  as  great  as  Burke  in  his  use  of  language 
and  in  his  power  of  investigation.     Mr.  Gladstone  is 
a  most  agreeable  talker  and  takes  care  not  to  monopo- 
lize the  conversation.     He  resembles  the  best  t\pe  of 
our  New  ICngland  character  in  form  and  feature  and 
cast  of  mind.     In  my  youtli   I  knew  an  oM  Uiiitariau 


6  A  vi;Ar:  in  i-i  h'Ti  <;a!,. 

ininislcr  \vh<j  ha'l  1)cvm  oslnici/.cl  and  driven  from  his 
parish  in  Coventry,  Connecticut,  on  account  of  the 
liberalit}-  of  his  opinions  in  tlie  early  days  of  the  con- 
test between  the  believers  in  the  Unity  and  the  believers 
in  the  Trinity — a  sturdy  old  Puritan,  who  was  a  patron 
of  letters,  was  po(-)r,  lint  helped  tlie  bright  boys  of  his 
neii;hl)()rhood  to  get  an  education,  had  a  l)road  face 
and  broad  shoulders,  talked  moderately,  and  was 
named  A1)iel  Abbot,  one  of  a  long  line  of  educators, 
scholars,  and  pliilauthropists.  An<l  tliis  worthv  and 
representative  New  ICnglander.  Mv.  Gladstone  strongly 
resembled.  The  type  is  a  good  one  for  a  free  and  non- 
conforming people,  but  a  poor  one  for  a  conformist. 
The  ])arty  at  dinner  was  m<jst  distinguished — Sir  ICdwin 
Arnold,  John  Morley,  whointrodnced  us  to  the  gallery 
of  the  House,  Mr,  and  Mrs.  f ;iad:-.loiu/,  Mr,  \Vilb;im 
I'dark,  Mts.  Morl'-y  an<l  .Miss  I'ljllman,  .Mr.  and  .Mrs. 
I.awton,  Mr.  and  .Mrs.  Koljert  Mu'obi,  Cen.  I.loyd 
I'>ryce,  Mrs.  John  A.  I.ogan,  Mrs.  Commodore  Ciarri- 
.son.  and  Consul-GenentI  and  Mrs.  New.  .Mr.  Carnegie 
sent  his  keen  impulse  througli  tlie  assembly,  and  his 
sweet  wife  iierforme'l  her  part  with  great  grace  and 
dignity. 

y//;/^,'^^)///.--This  morning  Mr.  ]',.  }'.  Stevens  took  me 
to  the  House  of  the  Rolls,  in  which  are  kept  the  records 
f)f  the  kingdom  and  wliich  contains  documents  of  rare 
value.  Few  persons  are  admitted,  and  it  was  only  at 
the  request  of  Mr.  Stevens  that  I  .secured  a  permit.  I 
had  a  mostcharnu'ng  genealogical  talk  with  my  guide, 
and  saw  Domesday  Book,  upon  which  all  eyes  are  not 
allowed  to  rest.  I  saw  the  oath  taken  by  Queen  Vic- 
toria on  her  coronation,  a  clear,  beautifully  written 
sheet,  witli  (ptcstions  and  answers  definitely  arranged, 


LONDON  TO  LISBON.  7 

among  which  was  an  oath  to  support  the  Church  of 
Knglaud,  and  Ireland  now  disestablished.  Victoria's 
signature  is  rough  and  manly,  not  the  handwriting 
of  a  fashionable  young  lady,  but  the  sturdy  and 
unpretentious  work  of  a  farmer.  The  Rolls  itself 
is  most  interesting,  .standing  as  it  does  near  the  old 
church  and  but  a  few  feet  from  all  that  remains  of 
Dryden's  house,  now  nearly  detnolished. 

An  invitation  to  attend  Lady  vSalisbury's  reception 
at  the  Foreign  Ofiicc  and  that  of  Mr.  Morgan  to  occupy 
his  box  at  the  opera  gave  us  good  opportunities  to 
catch  a  rapid  view  of  society  as  we  flew  through  the 
city.  The  reception  was  most  beautiful.  The  great 
staircase,  the  wealth  of  flowers,  the  abundance  of  dia- 
monds, the  multitude  of  dowagers,  made  a  most  distin- 
guislied  display,  I,ord  Salisbury  is  a  sturdy  son  of 
]'-nglaiid,  and  I.ady  ,S,ilisbur\  li;i'-.  a  most  gracious  alid 
gciilk-  maniKT.  I  dined  with  llu-  Ilihtorical  Society,  a 
body  of  learned  gentlemen,  and  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Chamberlain,  where  we  met  at  dinner  a  most 
thoroughly  American  party,  and  where  T  was  charmed 
with  the  grace  of  Mrs.  Cliamberlain,  wlio  rei>resents  so 
well  the  renowned  beauty  of  old  Salem. 

The  exhibition  of  the  Royal  Agricultural  vSocicty, 
its  semi-centennial,  took  place  at  Windsor  while  I  was 
in  London,  and  I  witnessed  with  great  satisfaction  the 
universal  interest  felt  in  its  success  by  all  cla.sses  of  peo- 
ple ajul  the  high  value  .set  ui)on  it  as  an  encouragement 
to  agriculture.  They  are  not  obliged  to  defend  cattle- 
shows  in  ICngland.  The  season  here  has  been  good 
thus  far.  A  good  hay  crop  and  large  crops  of  potatoes, 
grain,  and  roots  rejoice  the  heart  of  the  farmers.  The 
croj)  of  wheat  was  estimated  at  thirty  bushels  to  the 


8  A  YI;AK  IN'  I'!  (RTIKiAL. 

acre.  The  famiiii};  iiulusiry  of  ICiiKlatid  is  always 
^IUcrestillJ,^  I'rom  licr  Hocks  aiifl  herds  tlie  United 
Slates  breeders  liave  drawn  their  most  valiialjle  hUjod 
for  every  purpose  to  which  animals  are  devoted,  and 
tile  Hnglish  farmer  has  received  for  his  sales  of  cattle 
and  horses,  sheep  aTid  swine,  a  larger  remuneration 
than  for  any  other  Ijranch  of  his  business.  I  learn 
tliat  the  sales  of  pure-l)red  stock  during  the  past  year, 
lioth  c)f  cattle  and  horses,  have  been  most  satisfactory. 
ICarly  in  the  year  the  sales  of  vShire-horses  were  large, 
th.e  most  important  </f  whicli  was  tlie  sale  of  Mr.  C/illey, 
at  which  tlie  Duke  of  Westminster  ])aid  five  hundred 
guijieas  for  Stanton  Hero,  and  the  Prince  of  Wales  three 
hundred  guineas  for  the  Pr.de  of  I'leet.  At  tlie  Shire- 
horse  sale  nearly  /i<),fxKj  w;s  received  at  ])ublie  aucti(Mi, 
and  during  the  slunv  the  private  sales  aniounled  to 
alKuit  /:4,fxxj.  I-<jr  Hackneys,  Suffolk^.  Cleveland 
Bays,  and  Clydesdales  the  trade  has  been  good.  Cattle 
also  .sold  well.  At  forty-three  sales  of  Short-horns  2,32,1^ 
head  were  sold  for  a  total  of  ^76,570  14.?.  Cv/.,  or  an 
average  of /'32  njs.  ,v/..  each,  being  a  large  advance  over 
the  prices  of  18.S5,  i.s,s6,  18S7,  and  isss.  In  .Scotland 
the  sales  of  pure-bred  cattle  resulted  in  an  average  of 
^22  155.  ]Kr  head  being  obtained  for  Short-horns,  and 
of/21  IS.?,  for  those  of  the  Polled  Angus  breed.  Besides 
these  a  good  Imsiness  has  been  done  in  the  other  lead- 
ing breeds,  the  Herefords  more  especially.  The  great- 
est feature  of  tlie  year,  however,  has  been  the  growing 
poi)ularity  of  the  Irish  cattle,  the  Kerrys  and  the  Dex- 
ler-Kerrys,  many  of  which  have  been  ])rought  into 
ICngland.  1  lerds  of  these  small  cattle  liave  been  estab- 
lished at  Windsor  and  Sandriugham,  an<l  so  great  has 
been  the  demand  for  them  that  the  Roval  Dublin  ,So- 


LONDON  TO  LISBON.  9 

ciety  have  determined  to  establisli  a  herd-V)ook  of  the 
breed.  Sales  of  sheej)  have  also  been  ver>'  satisfactor>v 
and  prices  for  all  breeds  have  been  better  than  for  many 
years.  In  the  Windsor  show  no  less  than  / 150  were 
given  for  three  Lincoln  sheep,  the  first-,  second-,  and 
third-prize  \vinners  in  the  shearling  ram  class,  having 
been  purchased  to  go  to  Victoria  at  that  price.  The 
demand  both  from  home  and  foreign  buyers  was  largely 
increased  over  former  years,  the  breeders  of  some  varie- 
ties, such  as  the  Hampshire  Downs,  being  encouraged 
to  make  a  great  increase  in  tlieir  flocks,  and  to  estab- 
lish a  flock  register.  I  think  tlie  vShropshires  still  hold 
the  foremost  rank  among  all  llie  sheep  of  ICngland. 

The  establisliment  of  a  Board  (»f  Agriculture  and 
tlie  api)oinlment  of  a  secretary  who  is  a  member  of  the 
Ministry,  have  j;iven  a  new  impulse  to  agriculture  in 
ICngland.  The  connnaiid  of  the  Oueeu  to  Mr.  Jac»>b 
Wilson,  the  honorary  director  of  the  society's  shows,  to 
dine  at  Windsor  Castle,  and  to  receive  at  her  hands  the 
honor  of  knighthood,  her  success  in  taking  prizes  at 
the  Birmingham  and  Smithflelds  fat-stock  shows,  be- 
sides several  of  the  breed  chatnpionshii^s.  and  a  large 
number  of  other  prizes,  have  euccmraged  the  ICnglish 
farmer  to  pursue  with  more  than  \isual  zeal  an  occupa- 
tion which  has  not  of  late  years  been  distinguished  for 
its  success. 

The  presence  of  the  Queen  and  the  Royal  Family  at 
the  Windsor  ICxhibition  was  impressive,  and  gave  great 
eclat  to  the  occasion.  vShe  drove  through  the  grounds 
with  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  most  gorgeous  style,  fol- 
lowed by  a  great  body  of  outriders  and  the  members  of 
the  Royal  Family,  in  stately  array.  The  Queen  looked 
cheerful,  substantial,  and   proud  of  her  surrounding.s. 


10  A  YIAK  IN"  l-nl.'rn.Al.. 

The  Prince  of  \\':iles  is  j^rowiiii;  old.     'IMie  whole  scene 
rei)reseMt.e<l  well  the  solid  jtower  of  ICnj^land. 

I  ha\e  ie(.H-ivc<l  an  in\-ilalioM  to  the  dedicalioii  (»f  the 
national  nionunienlal  l'l>inoulli — not  I'lyniouth  inlCng- 
land,  l)Ul  that  more  sacred  riyin<»ntli,  where  the  genius 
of  the  ICngHsh  nation  found  a  hoi'.ie.  and  made  that 
nation  immortal.  I  have  felt  it  to  he  a])i)r<ipriatc  forme 
to  Send  the  f)ll<)Win;.^^  reply  frum  the  land  of  the  fathers 
and  from  tho>c'  "  sweet  homes  "  tliey  loved  so  well, — 

\\  I'.ll  II  N  ON   l:i.AK!)    llll.  /.'/■''</. 

"  To  llir  Coiiniiiffi I-'  I  have  rccei\'ed  your  courte- 
ous in\'italion  to  atlund  the  celehration  of  the  moinnnent 
erect(.-d  to  the  memory  <tf  tho>e  wholande<I  at  IMxinouth 
two  hundied  and  si\t\-iiine  \ears  a;^o.  and  hrotiy.ht 
with  IIkiii  thf  iiriiiripl' ^  of  stale  and  Norii'ty  npoii 
winch  ihi-  ,\mcii<:ni  npnlilic  is  founiU'il. 

"Were  I  on  tlu-  soil  which  tiny  niailc  s.navd  ami 
immortal,  and  t<)  wliich  I  am  hound  hy  e\ery  tie 
of  Mood  and  jiatriotism,  I  should  ac(\-])l  the  invitation 
With  j^ratitude  and  ea;4erness,  lUil  I  am  makint;  my 
\va\'  to  the  land  whifdi  the\-  left  to  find  a  home  for  their 
free  thoui^ht  ami  th.eir  iiutrammellcd  conscience,  and 
am  traversing;  the  i)ath  which  they  hravelx-  pursued  to 
hii^h  accomplishment  and  high  service  ;  and  I  can  only 
express  m>-  thatd^s  to  xou  for  remendjcrin;^  me  on  this 
occasion,  and  my  reverence  an(l  admiration  for  the 
work  which  they  performed.  I  am  bountl  for  their 
native  shores  ;  and  if  an\-  one  douljts  their  defiant  faith 
and  courajge,  let  him  \isit  their  imperial  home  ;  if  he 
doubts  tlieir  resolution,  let  him  sail  their  stoiniy  seas  ; 
if  he  doubts  the»r  wis<lom  and  foresi!.;ht,  let  him  survey 
the  em])ire  which  they  founded,  and  the  nationality 
which  tlu-\-  inspired. 


I.nMx  )N    Ti  »  LI.M'.ON.  11 

"  Tlie  story  of  the  l'il.i;riins  h;is  been  so  often  told 
tluit  it  has  hccoine  as  familiar  as  human  speech.     But 
are  we  not  in  danger  of  forgetting  what  our  history  and 
our  nation  wotild  be  without  them  ?     They  brought  to 
our  shcjres  as  a  family  tradition  the  story  of  reform  in 
]vngland,  wrought   out   by    their   own   ancestors,   the 
policy  of  a  representati\-e  government,  the  religious 
congregation  as  the  corner-stone  of  a  Christian  church, 
a  well-defined  faith  superior  to  theory  and  speculation, 
a  magistrate  without  a  crown,  a  bishop  without  a  mitre. 
The  fotnidation  of  their  state  was  a  churcli,  which  was 
built  ui)()n  a  luue  heart  ;is  the  rock  of  salvation,  and  re- 
(piired  no  forms  and  ceremonies  to  point  the  wa\'  to  the 
throne  of  (",.m1.     To  \k-  a  rili/en  of  this  colony,  whose 
moll u mm t  yu  have  now  (••impKled,  was  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian   in    word   and   drc'd,  and    from   the  hour  when  the 
compact  was  signed  on  board  the  J/(n'//('.".v7' until  this 
day,    the    spirit    which    has    animated    the    American 
jieopk-  thronL;]i  all  ranks  and  orders,  through  all  de- 
nonrinatious  and   forms  of  fiith,   has  l»een  guided  by 
Christian   rules   and   devoted   to  a  Christian  purpose. 
There  n\ay  be  contending  creeds  and  parties,  but  the 
object  is  the  same,  and  the  individual  is  never  lost  in 
the  multitude,  nor  is  jicrsonal  indei>endence  e\-er  sur- 
rendered to  the  decree  of  an  organization.     American, 
individualism  which  displa\s  itself  eveiywhere,  which 
ab.sorbs  all  nationalities  and  r.ever  emigrates,   has  its 
roots  in  Pilgrim  soil,  and  spreads  its  branches,  laden 
with  the  fruit  of  tlie  tn,e  of  knowledge,  wherever  the 
])urest  .XmeriiMii  in--titnlions  are  found. 

"  IJeliive  not  that  the  Pilgrim,  whether  Separatist  or 
Puritan,  planted  this  tree  in  doubt  or  gloom.  If  he 
had  no  music  «)r  soii:4,  he  had  enjoyed  none  in  his  old 


12  A  Yr.AK  IN  PORTUGAL 

lioDic,  If  he  had  no  draiiia,  llic  draniatist  aiul  the 
}>(>ct  had  no  coniniandin)^  place  in  his  native  land  of 
ninl)ili(jii  and  conquest.  If  lie  liad  no  art  in  tlie  wilder- 
ness, he  had  not  known  statues  and  paintin;^s  in  his 
iniiversities  and  cloisters.  He  came  forth  from  a  severe 
and  intense  people,  the  njost  intense  and  severe  of  them 
all.  And  yet,  in  the  absence  of  what  in  our  day  we 
call  a-sthetics,  I  am  unwillinj^  to  believe  the  life  of 
those  heroic  people  was  a  life  of  darkness  and  j;loom. 
vSong  and  stf)ry  and  art  indeed  ilhimine  human  life, 
but  there  is  an  exultation  and  .i  triumphant  joy  in 
heroic  eiidc'ivor  which  outshine  all  external  lij^ht,  and 
are  not  beclou<lcd  by  trial  or  misfortune.  A  hard  faith 
and  a  severe  rule  of  cr)Mduct  may  not  create  a  gloomy 
life,  and  we  know  that  t'iey  gave  the  I'ilgrim  a  jubi- 
lant strength  and  a  shining  victory,  for  which  no  song 
or  comedy  or  device  of  man  could  have  inspired  him. 
lie  had  his  hard  sorrows,  but  his  cloud  had  its  bow  and 
its  silver  lining, 

"Our  land  is  full  of  monumental  structures  now.  A 
loyal  people  has  erected  them  everywhere  to  its  loyal 
dead.  The  i)rosperr)us  sons  of  self-sacrificing  and  de- 
voted f ithers  build  libraries  and  churches  to  their  mem- 
orj'  on  the  spots  once  made  sacred  by  the  family  hearth- 
stones. We  immortalize  those  who  taught  and  prayed 
for  universal  freedom,  and  those  who  fought  for  it,  and 
n(nv  you  complete  a  monument  to  mark  the  spot  where 
the  character  of  a  great  people  was  esta])lished  on  the 
foundation  of  religion,  education,  and  self-sacrifice." 

In  a  few  days  we  leave  Jvngland,  with  all  its  associa- 
tions and  memories  and  greatness  and  feebleness,  and 
go  on  one  stage  more  towards  our  destination.     To  go 


LONFjON  to  LISBON.  13 

from  Boston  to  T^otulou  is  like  going  from  one  Ameri- 
can city  to  another.  Tlie  tastes,  the  manners,  tlic  lan- 
guage, the  traditions,  are  the  same  ;  and  it  is  into  the 
literature  of  Ivngland  that  the  American  looks  for 
those  works  of  thought  which  have  made  him  what  he 
is,  and  into  the  records  of  ICngland  for  those  names 
which  are  dear  to  him  at  home.  Ivngland  contemplates 
America  now  with  res[)ect,  wonders  at  her  growth,  is 
astonished,  as  Mr.  Gladstone  said,  at  her  ])ersonal  for- 
tunes, is  amazed  at  her  public  finance.  The  two 
nations  may  be  rivals,  hut  they  should  be  friends. 

Juf/c  2^lh. — We  have  been  two  da\s  in  Paris.  The 
journey  from  London  was  rapid  and  comfortable,  and 
the  Channel  insle.ad  of  being  teiupesluous  was  lively 
and  iusi)iriting.  Our  rooius  at  Meurice's  were  ready 
for  us,  and  we  entered  upon  Parisian  life  promptly. 
An  early  call  on  Mr.  Whitelaw  Reid,  the  American 
Minister,  made  an  opening,  and  after  very  courteous 
advice  and  invitations  from  him,  we  began  to  roam. 
Paris  covers  a  large  surface,  and  the  drives  are  long, 
and  we  were  delightfully  occu})ied  luitil  it  was  time  to 
go  to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  where  we  listened  to 
a  most  furious  debate  on  a  letter  which  a  son  of  a 
senator  had  written  in  praise  of  Boulanger,  and  which 
had  been  intercepted.  The  storm  was  great  and  ver>' 
amusing.  A  I'rench  orator  is  always  demonstrative  ;  a 
mad  French  orator  is  fascinating. 

On  vSaturday  evening  we  went  to  a  reception  which 
followed  a  dinner  given  by  the  American  Minister  to 
Mrs.  Levi  P.  Morton.  The  house  of  the  Minister  is 
really  a  ])alace  in  si/.e  and  decoration.  Miss  ICames, 
who  started  out  from  Maine  and  has  captivated  the 
musical    world,    sang   charmingly,    accomjianied   by    a 


14  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

most  admirable  tenor,  whose  name  I  have  forgotten  if 
I  ever  heard  it.  We  met  many  of  our  Washington 
ac(iuainlanccs,  Count  Lewenhaupt  and  the  Countess, 
Aristarchi  Bey,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hoffman,  Mr.  Otis  of 
New  York,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Augustus  Jay.  :M.  vSpuller, 
the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  eiitertained  me  Avith 
a  long  speech  about  his  experiences  in  America  at 
the  time  of  the  Yorktown  celel^ration,  and  expressed 
himself  as  delighted  with  our  country.  Yesterday 
wc  breakfasted  with  frieu'ls  at  vSt.  (k-rmain.  A 
ride  of  forty  minutes  1;y  rail  brought  us  Ic;  the  his- 
toric si>ot  Willi  its  old  ])alaces  and  ils  interesting 
neighborli(»od.  We  breakfasted  in  a  ])relly  arbor,  and 
afl<Twar(ls  we  drove  llirou;;h  that  beautiful  woo<l  for 
wliidi  St.  (k-rmain  is  .so  famf>us;  and  the  terrace 
from  which  the  view  (jf  the  vrdley  of  the  Seine  an<l  on 
to  I'aris  is  as  fine  as  nature  and  art  can  shape  it,  and 
as  historic  as  man  has  been  able  to  make  it.  I/ist 
evening  we  dined  with  Mrs,  Sherwood,  who  chaperones 
the  beautiful  daughter  of  Mr,  C,  P.  Huntington,  and 
has  a  kind  word  for  all  Americans.  The  company, 
consisting  of  ten  persons,  was  most  agreeable,  I 
listened  long  to  the  conversation  of  an  elderly  gentle- 
man who  was  full  of  information  on  vSuez  and  Paiunna 
canals,  agriculture  in  I'rance,  I'rench  politics,  French 
incomes,  and  French  manners.  He  is  a  devoted  friend 
of  I5oulanger,  and  evidently  feels  that  he  will  triumph 
in  the  end  ;  and  he  informed  me  that  the  Minister  of  the 
Interior  had  said  the  scenes  of  '93  should  be  enacted 
again  ratiier  than  have  lioulajiger  to  rule  over  F'rance. 
He  expects  victory  for  Poulanger  from  a  combination 
ofOrleaiiists,  litmapartisls,  and  dissatisfied  Republicans, 
mixed  in  what  prop(;rtion  he  did  not  inf(;rm  me. 


LONDON  TO  LISBON.  15 

To  attend  the  ICxpositiou  was  a  matter  of  necessity, 
and  we  took  an  earl>'  lionr  for  theexcnrsion.     Tainiliar 
as  I  am  with  such  scenes,  I  w;is  deeply  impressed  with 
the  extent  and  beauty  of  this.     It  was  not  as  hroad  and 
free  and  open  and,  as  it  were,  natural  as  the  Centen- 
nial ICxhibition  at  rhiUulelphia  in  1S76,  but  in  wealth 
of  construction  I  am  comi)elled  to  think  it  surpasses  it. 
There  are  no  charmin;^  hills  and  valleys,  no  great  trees, 
lU)  widespread  landscape,  but  the  old  ICastern  nation- 
alities  have   i)oured   forth    tlieir   art  and   industry  in 
sin-prisin>;   abmidance  ;    ]'hi;^land  is   .strong.    massi\c, 
solid,  .and  endurin:<  in  her  great  cNhibition  of  ceramics, 
mamifacliiK  --,    and    machinery    of  e\'ery    description  ; 
I'lance  abounds  ;     <\er\  ihing  that  can  <'ondiu"e  to  the 
ln:-.iiiy  of  life    she   has  gat]K-r<«l  lure,     'i'here  is  one 
Sevres  \-ase  worUi  CMiiiiiig  to  bauope  to  see.      There  arc 
groups  of  statuary,  graceful,  gross,  inspiring,  and  the 
reverse  ;  boudoirs  furnished  like  the  garden  of  ICden  ; 
gigantic  figures  of  heroes,  lions,  and  grilTuis;  brocades 
which  Wftuld  have  set  our  colonial  damsels  wild  ;  and 
I'lecorations  nujre  beautilul  than  even  theceilings  of  the 
American  Capit(d  an-  in  the  eye  of  an  admiring  citizen. 
And  then  the  laces  of  I'.rnssels,  the  beautiful  work  of 
thousan<ls  of  weary  fingers  ;  the  gorg<.<)US  glass  of  Aus- 
tria an<l  riungary  ;  the  intelligent  machinery  of  I'hig- 
land  a:i<l  the  I'nited  vSiates  ;  the  mounted  savagery  of 
the  forests  of  Russia  ;  the  swarthy  beauty  of  Arabia 
and  Persia  ;  the  cpiaint  productions  of  the  Swiss  ;  the 
agricultural  machinery,   and  well-ordered  stables,  and 
dairy  arrangements,  and  modi'l  farm-steadings,  in  min- 
iature,   from   I'rance   and   C.ermany  ;    and   gilded  and 
car\-ed  furniture  of  Ual\-  ;   and   textiles  of  Spain  ;  and 
wines  :uid  pr'miti\e  implenuiils  of  Portugal;  and  the 


16  A  YFIAR  IN  rORTUGAL 

mineral  aiul  forest  wcallh  of  South  America  ;  — all  this 
and  more  in  most  fascinating  collection  and  arrangement 
filled  me  with  Avonder  and  admiration,     I  was  really 
introduced  to   luuuati   ingenuity  and   skill,   and   was 
more  than  ever  impressed  with  man's  devotion  to  beauty 
and  luxury.     All  philosophy  and  theology  and  social 
sp.eculation  and  ])oetry  and  ]iolitics  were  driven  out  of 
my  head  b}-  the  material  splendor  before  me.     Our  trip 
along  the  Chamj)  de   Mars  to  the  KifTel   Tower,   for 
.scenery  and  a  huicli,  was  by  no  means  the  least  inter- 
esting experience.     It  is  useless  to  try  to  describe  this 
tower.      Tlic  Work  is  as  gr.nid  as  a  mountain.      They 
call  it  a  thousand   feet  liigh  ;  l)ut  it   seems  to  be  five 
tlunisand,      A    tall    i)'>])lar-tree   has    not    more    k'''1<-'*-'» 
M(junt  Washington  not  a  firmer  base.     It  is  the  Wasli- 
ington  Monument,  and  the  vSusciuehanna  Bridge,  and 
the  I'rooklyn   I'ridge,   and  tlie  vSuspeiisioJi  Bridge  at 
Niagara,  and  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's  all  crowded  into 
one.     We  went  in  an  elevator,  a  huge   car  lifted  by 
water  machinery,  to  the  top  of  the  first  platform,  higher 
far  than  Bunker  Hill  Monument,  and  had  a  most  re- 
freshing luncheon,  a  bottle  of  chablis,  a  bit  of  roast 
l)eef,  a  salad,  and  bread  and  butter — with  a  view  of 
Paris  before  us  never  seen  until  this  tower  was  built. 
All  the  great  historic  l)uildings,  the  hill  of  Montmartre, 
the  great  Arc  de  Triomphe,  the  gilded  dome  of  the  In- 
vali<li,s,  the  towers  of  Xotre  Dame,  .stood  around,  and 
the  gardens  and  gro\-es  and  dwellings  of  Paris  filled  the 
scene.    Tli'.-  view  is  most  impressive,  .suggestive,  and  in- 
teresting.   'JMiere  is  so  much  life  in  I'aris, — such  a  bright 
.sky,  such  invigorating  air,  such  marks  <;f  the  saint,  ^;u(•h 
footsteps  of  the  devil,  su'h  pi-rfectitin  oT  beauty  and  thy 
lx.-ast,  one  wcjuders,  a<lmires,  and  is  bewildered. 


LONDON  TO  LISBON.  17 

For  myself  I  have  been  verj'  busy — not  in  visiting 
old  scenes  and  old  buildings, — but  I  have  seen  many 
interesting  people,  and  have  greatly  enjoyed  strolling 
over  this  gay,  bright,  irrepressible  oily.  My  commis- 
sion goes  far  towards  my  enjoyment.  Official  position 
is  much  esteemed  here.  We  dine  to-night  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Reid,  and  to-morrow  we  go  to  a  garden-party 
given  by  President  Carnot  at  the  Klysees,  I  am  deter- 
mined to  leave  on  Monday  for  Lisbon,  ^vhich  I  find  is 
at  the  end  of  a  long  and  tedious  journey,  made  by 
express  on  Wednesday  and  Saturday,  on  even,'  other 
day  by  stages  from  town  to  town,  and,  if  you  wish, 
once  a  fortnight  by  small  steamers  from  IJordeaux. 
Not  a  pleasant  prospect.  lyast  evening  we  to()k  an- 
other long  drive  with  Count  and  Countess  (lalli  in  the 
I5oisdelioulogneand  in  the  suburbs  of  I'aris,  and  wound 
up  the  evening  with  a  visit  to  Buffalo  Bill's  Wild  West 
Show.  iCverything  trivial  fits  this  place  and  j)eople 
exactly — even  where  the  tragic  marks  are  the  deei)cst 
in  the  world. 

The  garden-party  was  quite  entertaining.  The 
French  have  preserved  enough  of  the  royal  magnifi- 
cence, which  once  prevailed  entirely,  to  give  an  air 
of  monarchical  rule  to  all  their  public  ceremonies. 
The  republic  flourishes  in  all  its  power,  and  France 
gets  further  and  further  away  from  the  splendors  of 
royalty.  But  time  alone  can  remove  the  landmarks 
laid  down  by  kings  and  a  voluptuous  court,  and  the 
simplicity  and  absence  of  (Usplay  wliich  mark  the 
workings  of  ])o])ular  government  come  on  as  slowly 
and  gradu.ally  as  the  cla>H  of  spring  ande.uly  summer. 
And  so  the  gar«kn-j>aity  had  much  eereinony,  and 
many  lacqueys,  and  much  tinsel,  and  a  good  deal  of 


IS  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

promenadinj^,  and  considcra!)lc  formality.  I  met  many 
Americans  there.  And  Colonel  IJclitenstein,  who  rep- 
resented President  Grcvy  at  our  Yorktowu  centennial, 
greeted  us  as  an  old  friend,  and  escorted  us  through 
the  cliarming  salons  hung  with  old  Gobelin  tapestry. 

The  scene  at  the  garden-party  was  enchanting.  The 
beauty ')f  the  Ivly.sc'es  lias  charmed  many  generations 
of  men.  Nature  aiid  art  have  combined  to  make  this 
spot  most  lo\-ely  and  most  appropriate  for  an  assembly 
of  savans  and  scientists  from  every  quarter  of  the 
globe.  Men  gathered  in  gr<nii)son  the  lawn,  according 
to  tlieir  nationrdities  in  Juiro])e,  and  representatives 
fnjm  the  newly  found  western  continent.  Many  a 
familiar  American  group  welcomed  me  ;  and  tlie  French 
spirit  animated  and  the  l-Vench  courtesy  regulated  the 
entire  assembly.  President  Carnot  might  have  been 
born  in  Malta. 

//<'/)'  ?^/.-  -The  journey  from  Paris  to  Pordeaux  is  fine 
and  varied.  You  start  out  at  once  into  Orleans,  with 
all  its  I'.istoric  interest,  and  travel  over  a  great  extent 
of  country  level  and  almost  treeless,  cultivated  to  the 
degree  of  a  garden,  with  no  waste  land,  no  animals, 
a])parently  no  people — none  visible.  The  Chateau  dc 
Chand)orfl  arrests  your  attention, — a  specimen  of  archi- 
tectural beauty  seldciui  surpassed,  and  rich  in  the  por- 
traits of  Madame  de  M;iintenon,  Amie  of  Austria,  and 
their  l^rilliant  associates.  You  pass  on  through  gardetis 
and  towns  to  Tours,  where  you  rest  for  an  h.our  and 
get  a  Hood  of  historical  memories.  Peyond  Tours, 
Poictiers  greets  you,  and  Angoulcme,  and  you  reali/e 
that  you  are  jKissiiig  through  a  part  of  I'rance  owned 
and  loved  by  kings  aiul  princes  and  fought  for  by  great 
captains.     As  you  ai)])roach  liordeaux  the  surface  of 


LONDON  TO  LISBON.  19 

the  couutn'  becomes  more  uneven,  atul  you  are  at- 
tracted at  once  by  the  nuiltitude  and  extent  of  the 
vineyards.  \'ines  phuited  on  thousands  of  acres  make 
a  cheerful  landscape  at  this  season,  and  hold  out  great 
promise  of  autunuial  wine.  Indian-corn  fields  also 
attracted  my  admiring  gaze. 

In  the  morning  we  left  the  vinous  toWu  in  a  bright 
sunlight  and  sweet  air.  As  we  went  on  our  way  every- 
thing changed.  First  came  miles  of  hard  pine  forests 
planted  in  even  rows  for  the  pilch,  each  tree  having  a 
wound  and  a  cup  to  catch  the  flow  of  vital  fluid— like 
a  sngar-m;ipl(;  in  \'erm()nt.  Tlie  soil  was  lliin,  hut 
cultivated  everywhere  for  Some  pur]>ose— wheal,  barley, 
pol.'iloes,  grass,  pines.  Ivrelong  ihe  Pyrenees  appeared, 
and  then  for  miles  we  whirled  on  through  a  scene 
hardly  e([ualled  in  the  Alleglianies  or  White  Moun- 
tains. The  g-eat  hills  like  Mount  Washington,  the 
deep  valleys  like  the  Glen,  the  rapid  streams  like  the 
vSaco,  all  fdled  me  with  great  jo.\'  in  nature  and  with 
the  tenderest  memories.  I-'or  an  hour  or  more  the 
.seacoast  comes  itito  view,  and  on  one  side  lie  Biarritz 
and  vSau  vSebastian,  while  on  the  other  the  moni:- 
t:uns  :ui(l  hills  are  jiiled  up  in  great  grandeur  and 
beauty. 

The  5.1UI  went  down  ;  a  new  moon  like  an  eyelash 
ai)i)eared  ;  my  planet,  the  evening  star,  which  lighted 
me  home  so  often  last  autunni,  and  whose  glories  huwe 
followed  mee\-erywhere  in  Washington  and  New  York 
and  on  the  ocean  and  luTe,  liung  in  all  its  glory  in  the 
same  western  sk\',  and  the  evening  air  was  cool  and 
sweet.  Soon  we  bioke  out  of  .all  Ik.is  glory  and  trav- 
ersc-d  the  hard,  roi-ky  hills  which  alxmnd  in  this  part 
of  ,Spain, 


20  A  VliAR  IN   l-ORTrCAL. 

Now  lhrouj;li  all  this  long  day's  ride  we  saw  even.'- 
wherc  marks  of  liuniau  industry.  No  acres  available 
were  lying  idle.  All  that  could  be  reached  were  well 
cuUivaled.  I  saw  no  ])eople — only  a  few  toiling  in  the 
field — men  and  women  hoeing  and  making  hay.  I 
.saw  very  few  horses — only  one  small  drove  on  their  way 
to  market,  and  another  at  pasture.  I  saw  only  one 
jileasure-carriage  during  the  day,  on  the  fine  roads. 
Mules  and  well-mated  fawn-colored  oxen,  cultivating 
the  corn  and  skilfully  avoiding  the  rows,  were  doing 
the  fruniwork.  I  saw  but  few  homes  of  the  ])eo])le. 
They  toikfl  uj)  to  the  latest  twilight,  and  then  collected 
into  little  gn;ups  to  go  I  knew  not  whither.  A  few 
flocks  of  .sheep  gathered  around  their  shepherds  and 
lay  down  for  the  night.  When  I  passed  on  they  stood 
looking  at  them — the  shepherds  at  the  sheei>, — and  for 
aught  I  know  they  are  there  still.  There  was  no 
dwelling  near.  The  nudes  were  tethered  by  the  road- 
side and  the  toil-worn  oxen  made  their  beds  in  the  tall 
grass.  No  walls  or  fences  dixided  the  fields.  The 
grazing  animals  .seemed  to  recognize  the  boundaries  of 
the  various  plots  of  grain  and  grass  by  instinct,  and 
none  overstep])ed  the  limits.  In  all  this  one  got  no  idea 
of  home,  or  school,  or  association,  or  social  culture,  or 
civil  right.  The  level  for  men  and  animals  and  in- 
dustry was  uniform.  The  only  mills  I  saw  were 
windmills  and  two  or  thrre  ])aper-mills,  and  the  ra])id 
streams  were  chiefly  devoted  to  women  washing 
clothes. 

When  we  U-fl  T'»ordeaux,  we  intended  to  stop  a  night 
in  ]'>urgos  and  take  a  train  the  next  morning  for  Ma- 
drid, according  to  instructions  given  lis  in  Paris.  But  I 
was  misled  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  gain  a  day  and 


LONIJON  TO  LISBON.  21 

see  Burgos,  with  its  great  cathedral  and  its  historic 
associations.  When  I  left  Bordeaux  I  went  away  from 
a  busy  Ainerican-looking  town,  which  was  once  famous 
for  its  American  commerce,  its  maritime  business,  and 
its  historical  importance,  whose  streets  and  mole  had 
been  trodden  for  ages  by  a  most  industrious  and  hardy 
people,  and  whose  name  is  identified  with  ancient  and 
modern  enter|^rise.  When  I  arrived  at  Burgos  I  found 
myself  in  an  interesting,  quaint,  venerable  town,  whose 
antiquities  occupied  all  my  attention,  whose  enterprise 
was  small  and  secondary,  and  which  is  distingin'shed 
for  the  marks  of  the  Cid  and  Charles  tlie  V,,  and  all 
tlie  Don  Fcrnandos,  and  with  a  great  gateway  erected 
in  honor  of  Charles  the  V. ;  and  tlie  famous  cathedral. 

Burgos  was  long  the  capital  of  Castile  and  Leon, 
and  is  a  fine  .specimen  of  a  genuine  Castilian  city.  It 
was  founded  in  8S4,  and  has  passed  through  the  vari- 
ous fortunes  of  war  so  well  known  to  all  v^panish 
towns.  When  the  kings  of  Castile  removed  tlieir  court 
from  Burgos,  they  destroyed  the  S(.)urces  of  its  pros- 
perity. During  the  Peninsular  wars  it  was  with  its 
strong  fortifications  the  obstacle  to  the  passage  of  Wel- 
lington out  of  vSpain,  and  .so  firmly  was  it  held  that, 
after  five  or  six  assaults,  the  iCnglish  were  obliged  to 
retire  to  Madrid,  while  the  fortifications  were  destroyed 
and  the  i)ath  left  open.  Since  that  day  Burgos  has 
been  idle. 

Tlie  Gothic  Cathedral  is  the  main  ol)ject  of  interest 
in  this  re[)resentative  {spanish  town.  It  was  royally 
founded  by  St.  Ferdinand  in  honor  of  his  marriage 
with  Donna  Beatrix  in  1221  ;  and  the  reigning  sovereign 
became  one  of  the  canons  of  the  chapter  from  which 
Pope  Ali'xander  VI.  sprang.    The  very  .soil  on  which  it 


22  A  YliAR  IN  I'()FTU(]AL 

Stands  is  steeped  in  ecclesiastical  renown.  It  seems  to 
be  the  most  sacred  spot  on  earth— and  the  catliedral 
itself  an  object  worthy  of  occupying  the  place.  True 
the  approach  to  this  wonderful  piece  of  architecture  is 
most  humble,  and  the  great  doorway  opens  from  a 
court-yard  surrounded  with  dingy  and  misshapen 
dwellings.  I'.tit  out  from  this  low  level  s])rings  a 
collection  of  graceful  spires,  which  draw  you  away 
from  c.-iilh  ruid  direct  your  mind  to  the  heaven  of 
saints  and  the  great  while  throne.  While  you  con- 
template this  ravishing  .accumulation,  the  heavy  curtain 
is  swung  away  from  tlie  door  and  y(»u  enter.  The 
scene  before  you  is  overpowering.  Tiie  lofty  arches 
and  the  great  na\e  opi)iess  you  with  their  grruuleur. 
The  retable  of  the  high  altar,  in  the  centre  of  which  is 
a  silver  image  of  the  Virgin,  is  very  fine,  and  the  rest 
of  the  altar  is  occupied  by  statues  representing  scenes 
from  the  life  of  the  Virgin,  of  apostles  and  saints.  At 
the  side  of  the  altar  are  tombs  of  three  Infantes  of  Cas- 
tile, \vho  wete  buried  there  in  the  i^lh  century. 
Impressed  witli  the  sacredness  of  this  monumental 
structure,  you  wander  from  chapel  to  chapel,  until 
you  become  enamom-ed  of  tliat  genius  and  religious 
enthusiasm  wliich  f.-und  expression  in  such  sublime 
work.  It  is  a  picture  of  ancient  repose — rejjresenting 
the  fervor  and  /.eal  of  past  centuries  without  a  boml  to 
bitid  it  to  the  ])resent.  The  mind  endeavors  to  i)eople 
it  with  active  life,  with  l;in;!;s  and  jjriests  and  all  the 
bright  display  which  belonged  to  the  Church  in  its 
prime  and  ])ower.  The  arabescpies  and  monsters  repre- 
sent the  hideous  side  of  life,  and  images  of  .saints  and 
angels  all  that  is  holy  and  pure.  Recumbent  eOlgies 
of  the  founders  have  lain  silent  there  f(;r  centuries  and 


LONDON  T(^  LIS150N.  23 

fill  you  \vitli  awe  and  reverence.  To  be  led  from 
clicipcl  to  chapel,  introduced  l)y  turns  to  the  work  of 
Nicodeiuus,  and  the  Virgin  and  child  by  vSebastian  del 
Pionibo,  and  to  the  splendid  tomb  of  the  great  Bishop 
Alonso  dc  Carthagena,  and  to  the  gorgeous  Chapel  of 
the  Condestablc  with  its  great  wealth  of  art  and  deco- 
ration, is  like  being  l)orne  from  one  sacred  presence 
to  anothcT,  luilil  tlic  mind  grows  weary  witli  tlie 
contemplation  of  so  much  bcanty.  The  cloisters  are 
fiiually  fine  and  imposing.  Over  the  doorway  leading 
into  the  Old  Sacristy  is  carved  the  Descent  from  the 
Cross;  and  in  the  ante-r<»<)m  of  the  Chai>ter  House 
is  preserved  VA  Cofre  del  Cid,  a  battered  iron-bound 
chest,  attached  to  the  wall  liigh  above  the  floor,  in 
which  the  Cid  stored  the  stones  which  he  pledged  to 
the  Jews  for  a  loan  to  carry  on  his  wars,  lie  pledged 
his  victories  also  with  the  contents  of  the  chest,  and 
returned  victorious  to  redeem  his  pledge. 

When  you  leave  this  lofty  momnnent  to  man's 
devotion  and  religions  zeal,  you  step  forth  into  a  dis- 
mal accunmlation  of  ordinary  city  life,  lUirgos  is  old 
and  sipialid.  Ihit  within  those  holy  walls  are  legends 
and  tales  of  .sad  realities  an<l  tragic  adventures  which 
give  inexpressible  charm  to  the  scene.  The  beautihil 
door  of  the  cloister,  the  finest  in  the  world  next  to  the 
gates  of  the  P.aptistery  at  Tlorence,  arrests  you,  and 
yon  stand  in  nnite  admiration  before  it.  Tlie  choir, 
the  stairs,  tlie  doors,  the  iron  bars,  and  al)ove  the 
cathe(hal  doorways  images  of  saints  carved  in  stone, 
all  cliallen^e  you  to  ]xuise  and  admire  their  grace  and 
beauty.  The  tales  wliich  are  told  you  of  the  faith  and 
love  and  dev(;tion  manifested  there — of  the  Christ 
which  l)lee<ls,  of  tlie  king  whose  n^mantic  life  is  con- 


2t  A  VliAR  IN  rOKTUGAL. 

'  nc-clcdwilhlliis  K^i-'iit  calhclral— hind  you  as  bj-a  spell 
to  the  spot.  And  you  i;o  forth  into  the  dccayinj;  city 
aroinid  ytni  i)Lrplexed  hy  tlic  niystiTics  of  the  Roman 
Catliolic  Church,  to  whose  ^lory  all  wealth  and  power 
and  K^-nius  once  dedicated  themselves,  an<l  whicli  now 
turns  back  witli  pride  to  its  ancient  j^raudeur. 

Xo  cathedral  in  all  Cliristendom  sinpasses  in  heaiity 
tliis  at  JhiriV'S.  l''rom  the  small  s'[n;ire  in  hont,  one 
c.'ui  coiiknij.lile  :lie  laeade  aJM.ve  which  rise  airy 
si)ires  pointin- in  i;reat  inun))ers  hi;<h  above  the  roof 
like  tall  and  tapen'jij;  i)ines  in  the  forest.  The  farade 
is  ornamented  willi  a  multitude  of  statues  of  princes, 
angels,  and  martyrs,  so  perfect  in  size  and  shape  that 
they  deceive  you  with  ihe  thought  that  they  are  liv- 
ing guardiatis  of  the  terjiple.  Not  a  line  of  all  these 
spires  disturbs  your  sense  of  harmony.  The  group  is  as 
uniform,  beautiful,  and  inspiring,  as  the  work  of  man 
can  be  to  the  soul  of  him  who  contemplates  it.  As  in 
viewing  a  lofty  mountain  man  is  fdled  with  faith  and 
aspiration,  so,  as  the  eye  wanders  over  this  sublime 
.structure,  he  warms  toward  those  who  have  labored  to 
bring  to  earth  the  beauty  of  the  .starry  heavens.  This 
great  work,  which  belongs  to  tlie  times  of  the  Renais- 
sance, v.a:;  built  wlien  devotion  to  art  and  architecture 
had  reached  the  highest  point.  Reh'":ons  fiith  found 
cxi)r(ssion  in  most  (•x<jtii:,il(:  forms  :  and  so  as  you 
stand  beneath  the  cupola  of  this  building  you  behold 
on  ev<.Ty  side,  above  and  below,  a  bewildering  mass  of 
coluimis  and  tracery  .and  images,  each  one  of  which 
is  so  delicately  wrought  that  it  seems  to  exi)ress  all 
th.at  sense  of  be;uity  which  language  would  fail  to 
CfMivey,  Turn  to  either  hand  an<l  your  eye  rests 
upon  a  gorgeous  chapel    dedicated    to  a  prince,  or  a 


LONDON  TO  LISBON.  25 

bishop,  or  a  kitig,  whose  effigies  he  in  the  centre  of 
all  the  magnificence,  guarded  hy  an  army  of  atigels 
and  saints  so  decorated  and  clad  that  at  a  signal 
the  room  might  he  filled  with  life.  To  the  art  of  tliis 
structure  it  is  said  that  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Michael 
Angelo,  and  Andrea  del  vSarto  contrihuted  each  his 
.share  ;  and  the  Roman  CathoHe  Church  can  turn  to  it 
as  the  ctilmination  of  its  architectural  power.  • 

y lily  <y>lh. — We  reached  Madrid  early  in  the  uioruing 
of  July  4th,  and  i)roceeded  at  once  to  get  a  view  of 
the  town.  We  began  by  exploring  carefully  the 
great  nmseum  where  the  pictures  of  Murillo,  Velas- 
quez, Titian,  Tintoretto,  Poussin,  Rubens,  and  a 
jiumerous  crowd  are  collected.  Murillo  is  as  sweet 
and  spiritual  as  ever,  Velasquez  as  royal  and  vexa- 
tious, Titian  as  voluptuous,  Rubens  as  red,  Poussin  as 
gloomy,  Tintoretto  as  brilliant  and  commonplace. 
Among  them  all  stands  Murillo  pre-eminent. 

A  journey  in  the  night-time  on  a  Spanish  train  from 
Burgos  to  Madrid  is  dismal  and  dreary, — spectral  in 
the  darkness.  The  surface  of  the  earth  and  the  forms 
of  animal  life  were  bad  enough  before  we  reached 
Ikirgos,  but  when  morning  dawned  and  revealed  the 
landsca[)e,  the  sight  which  met  our  eyes  was  rude  and 
])icturesque.  Dawn  broke  upon  a  surface  of  mountains 
and  valle>s  literally  covered  willi  boulders  lar,i;e  and 
small,  fioni  the  si/.e  of  a  cocoa-nut  to  the  size  of  a 
cathedral.  They  stood  not  :done  but  in  groups,  and 
lay  as  th.ickly  along  the  land  as  the  dead  lay  at  Water- 
loo ajid  dettysburg  ;  and  so  on  for  miles.  The  scene 
was  defiant  and  startling.  A  scanty  herbage  sprang 
up  among  the  rocks.  No  crops  ajjpeared.  except  here 
and  there  at  long  intervals  a  sickly  patch  of  wheat  or 


26  A  VHAR  IX  TOF^TrGAL 

lentils.  I  lay  in  my  1)crUi  watching'  the  i!icren=;ing 
sunlight  wIr-ii,  just  as  tlie  ^hjom  dimiiiishcd  aiul  the 
cartli  sixiii-.d  u  jililc  more  liospitahle,  a  hcatilifiil 
viM'-.ii  <,f  a  iMiildin;^  (am..-  into  view  with  a  doiiu;  of  iiii- 
j);ir;dl<-l<-d  h'/.iiity  and  h'n<s  oC  windows  flashin;,^  in  the 
finidi)',ht  h'l.<.;  lon;^  row.  <.f  hiillinnls.  It  was  the  I'lseo- 
lial  .sliinin;:  in  the  desolation.  Why  it  wa?4  IIkiv  no 
'"•">  '""''1  <'1I,  rhilip  II.  sp'iil  fiKcL-n  yi-ars  in 
watchinj^^  its  cojisti  uctioii  (Voiii  a  rocky  seat  on  a 
ncl;^dd)(ninj<  hillside;  an«l  thtru  it  stands  as  beaulifnl 
witliout  and  as  gloomy  wit])in  as  his  dismal  soid  could 
Jiial.e  it.  It  was  a  realization  of  the  Methodist  hvnin 
which,  in  dcvrihin^r  heaven,  says  with  reli;;ious  fervor 
an*!  pious  /e:d  ; 

"  Tho'-i-  KliU'Tiii;^  lo-.vcrs  the  stars  oulsliiiie-." 

I  had  no  idea  the  famous  structure  was  so  far  away 
from  Madrid  ;  and  T  supjwse  if  Philip  had  ima:^dned  a 
railroad  would  ever  have  shortcne<l  the  distance,  he 
would  have  taken  his  seat  and  laid  the  foundatioiis  of 
his  palace  farther  on  among  the  stony  hills  of  Spain, 
beyond  the  reach  of  l<K-oniotives  and  wagondils,  the 
detestable  iCtiropean  name  for  a  detestable  thing,  which 
we  j)ossess  with  all  its  crjuiff^'ts  anrl  luxuries  and 
cleaidiness  and  call  a  sh  eping-car  in  America. 

We  spent  the  I'ourth  of  July  with  Minister  Palmer, 
who  with  Mrs.  Palmer  and  the  attaches  of  his  Lega- 
tion  and  ourselves  sat  down  U)  a  national  dinner.  We 
drank  to  tlie  j)rosperity  of  the  Repul)lic  ;  and  after  liav- 
ing  explored  a  city  like  tliis  the  Repiddic  seemed 
resplendent.  It  seems  to  me  that  nothing  but  ecclesi- 
astical necessity  and  personal  ambition  ojuld  have 
located  Madrid  wlure  it   is.     It  is  the  centre  of  the 


LONDON  TO  LISnciN.  27 

mo?t  miserable  ])art  (jf  vSpaiu  and  has  been  jiiaiiitaiiied 
by  force  ever  since  it  was  fmimUd, 

At  eleven  o'clock  at  tiij;lit  we  left  for  Lisbon.     Of 
course  I  saw  nolhin^^  niilil  morning  dawned,  and  then 
we  were  rollin;.^  tliKnij'Ji  a  poor  baircn  country  such  as 
we  .^aw  on  our  apitroacli  to  the    capital  (»f  S]>ain,      Ah 
we  went  on,  liowrvcr,  ni;ilt(TH  inipiovcd,  and  from  llie 
sandy  soil  iin<l  thin  crops  of  that  part  (»f  the  country, 
we  j.;radually  ran  into  a  belter  region  which  increased 
in  beauty  when  we  entered  l*ortui;al.     The  ^rain  fields 
were  somewhat  luxuriant.     The  cork  trees  were  beinj; 
stripped   of  their  crop  of  baik,   and  stood  arouiul    in 
flcsh-cfjlfjred  costume  or  in  <liii^\v  k-i''"'<^""1'^.  covering 
hundreds  of  acres   in    most   picturesque   nuuuier,  like 
sturdy  oaks.     Tlie  fences  were  };reat  rows  of  century- 
phmts  rejoicing  in  a  genial  climate.     The  houses  were 
prim  and  white.   I)r(j\es  of  horses  fed  on  the  pastures, 
and  herds  (;f  cows  reminded  me  of  tlie  Pickman  farm 
and  the  town  pastures  of  Salem.     At   last  the  Tagus 
came  into  view  and  enlivened  the  landscape  with  its 
broad  yellow  current,  bearing  on  its  bosom  a  scattered 
fleet  of  boats  with  tall  lateen  saiK.     On  its  b.uiks  were 
a  few  lumber  establishments,  and  on  its  low  borders 
salt-])ans  were  doing  the  best  they  could    to  convert 
their  salt-water  into  a  merchantable  prodnct.     Oardens 
and    vineyards    nuiltiplied  as  we  approached    I,isbon, 
and  I  looked  with  delight  on  the  evidences  of  horticul- 
ture under  favorable  circumstances.     We  reaihed  our 
destination  at  three  o'clock,  .and  were  met  at  thest.ition 
by  Mr.  Wilbor,  the  \'ice  Con-ul  who  attended  us  to  the 
II(jtel  15ragan/.a,  and  enlightened  me  about  the  people 
and    m\'   predecessor.      I'rom    our    windows    we   could 
Overlo(»k  the  broad  river  widening  into  a  bay  direclty 


28  A  YHAR  IN  POFrrUGAI.. 

l)cforc  us.  The  far  (jfT  opposite  shore  is  beautiful,  and 
the  while  villages  alojig  the  remote  banks  are  most  at- 
tractive and  sug5.;eslive. 

Lisbon  is  an  interesting  town — the  Portuguese  are  an 
interesting  peopk-,  Tlity  appear  well,  are  quiet  and  re- 
jKtsefnl  and  calm  tni<ier  ordinary  cirntmslMn'.es,  'I'liey 
neither  <!rink  to  ex<  ess  nor  fight.  Their  houses  are  in 
good  order,  their  railway  stations  are  well-built,  neat, 
and  convenient,  their  fieltls  are  well  cared  for,  so  far  as 
the  simplest  implements  of  husbandry  will  allow,  and 
their  streets  and  highways  arc  well-built  and  clean. 
They  have  an  encouraging  air  of  slender  thrift.  There 
are  not  many  new  iMiildings  in  Lisbon,  but  there  are  at- 
tractive old  ones — convents,  monasteries,  palaces,  and 
churches. 

The  Legation,  as  it  is  called,  is  a  suite  of  old-fash- 
ioned r<K;ms  with  old  furniture  and  marks  of  old  diplo- 
macy, relics  of  Oeneral  Humphries  and  Joim  Pickering, 
in  the  e.irly  times,  and  of  devotid  citizens  later  on. 
There  is  an  air  of  comfort  alxmt  lliem  which  is  encour- 
aging. Tlie  ])lace  is  uni'iue.  L<»ndf>n  is  grand  and 
massive  ;  I'aris  is  glittering  and  active  ;  Madrid  is,  with 
the  e.xccj)lioj)  of  its  great  gall'-ries,  hard  and  cold,  and 
as  imjieiious  as  a  cavalier  or  a  don.  Put  Portugal  is 
tile  (ondensation  of  luxurious  (piiet,  Lisbon  with  its 
sleep  hilly  streets,  its  mouldy  grandeur,  its  calm  old 
age,  is  the  i)lace  in  all  the  wt^rld  to  which  one  can  retire 
with  assurance  of  finding  rest,  even  among  mild  i)ro- 
tests  and  ])opular  feeling.  It  is  one  extreme  of  ctdli- 
vated  ci\-ili/.alion — London  struxling  at  the  other.  It  has 
the  resi)ectabilily  of  old  age.  Put  we  abandoned  all  this 
and  took  up  our  residence  at  Cinlra,  that  famous  abode 
of  heroes  and  conspirators  and  poets  and  diplomatists. 


CHAPTHR  II. 

CINTUA  AND  MAFRA, 

Too  much  caiuiot  be  said  of  the  beauty  of  this  re* 
nowiied  spot.  Its  striking  loveliness  consists  of  a 
section  of  deep  ravines,  lofty  heij^hts,  bare  and  rocky 
suitiniils,  luxuriant  gardens  whose  foliage  vies  with  the 
tropics,  a  lofty  Moorish  palace,  whose  twin  turrets  are 
the  chimneys  of  the  kitchen  ;  winding  narrow  streets 
half  the  width  of  the  road  on  the  rocky  promontories 
of  New  ICngland,  little  streams  trickling  down  the 
rocks  into  dark  grottos,  great  towering  i)ines,  im- 
p(>sing  palms,  a  confused  heap  of  rugged  and  magnifi- 
cent nature;  beyond  which,  stretching  towards  the 
invisible  sea,  is  a  vast  i>lain  of  variegated  1)eauty,  green 
])astures,  yellow  grain  fields,  groui)S  of  trees,  and  those 

deli^'.htlhl   laiiduKirks   to   a  Yiiiikcc    eyi meandeiing 

stone  walls.  I  am  only  surprisi-d  th;it  more  IravelUrs 
do  not  go  to  Cintni.  We  secured  (garters  at  the  I.aw- 
retux'  Hotel,  a  comfortable  hostelry,  which  has  shel- 
tered among  other  distinguished  guests  Lord  IJyron 
and  Lord  Lytlon,  Lady  iManklin,  and  many  of  my  pre- 
decessors. 

Yesterday  I  walked  to  Pena.  Pena  is  one  of  Ihose 
structures  which  the  "  old  people  "  of  Portugal  were  so 
fond  of  erecting  on  every  crag  and  hilltop,  always  with 
a  religious  significance.     It  was  originally  a  convent, 


3o  A  YiiAK  IN  IX^KTIIGAL. 

built  by   Dom  Manuel,  for  the  Jeruiiyinitcs  of  IJelem, 
and  was  a  watch-lower  for  this  monarch,  from  which  lie 
looked  out  day  by  day  and  hour  after  hour  to  see  \'asco 
de    Gama  return  from  his  voyai^e  of  discovery  round 
the  Cape  of  G<jod  Hope  in   1497.     When  the  convents 
were  suppressed  it  was  i)urchased  by  a  jirivate  gentle- 
man, who  soon  s(/id  it  to  the  laic  king  1).  Fernando, 
who  bequeathed  it  to  the  Coiuitess  ]'*,dla,  from  whom  it 
has  been  recovered  by  the  present  king.     It  is  perched 
ui)nn  a  peak  a  thonsan;!  feet  or  more  above  the  plain, 
and  coiinnands  a  vast  view  of  the  sea  and  the  mouth  of 
the  Tagus,  the  lines  of  Torres  Vedras,  the  great  con- 
vent of  Mafra,  and  a  curious  landscape  of  wild  and  cul- 
tivated hill  and  valley.     Around  it  stands  a  collection 
of  stony  peaks  crowned  v.  ith  boulder.s,  which  it  would 
.seem  as  if  Agassiz'  tra\elling  glaciers  could  not  move. 
I'rom  the  towers  of  the  caslle  the  ravines  seem  to  be  of 
unfathomable  (le[)th.     The  surrounding   hills    are    all 
below  yoti,  so  high  is  the  castle,  and  their  .savage  rocky 
asi)ect,  starting  up   as  they  do  out   of  the   luxuriant 
loliage  of  the  valleys,  is  most  impressive.      On  a  jieak 
not  far  off  stands  the  ruin  of  a  Moorish  castle  a  tluni- 
sand  years  old,   an  inaccessible   fortress,  wIkjsl-  occu- 
pants were  starved  out  v.hen   Christianity  secured  its 
triumi)h  in  P<M-tugal.     There  they  staJid,  tlu^  one  in  its 
natural  beauty  looking  over  U]>on  the  desolate  ruin   of 
the  other.  a!id  both  repnsentiiig  the  folly  of  ambition 
and  (•on'pK■^ll.      I'eiia  is  full  of  choiic  bits  of  architec- 
ture, fine  CJothic  arches,  a  ])ictinxs(iue  entrance  with  a 
drawbridge,  a  ch.'irming  little  chapel,  and  frescos  and 
carvings  iinuunerable.      Its  scpiare  atid  Moorish  towers 
are   e.Kceedingly    beautif'vil,  and    the   wall    around    its 
bastions   .startling   and  confusing.       The    gardens  are 


CINTRA  AM)  MArKA.  31 

filled  with  tropical  jilaiits,  sliru1)S,  aiul  trees,  and  the 
surrounding  forests  are  grand  and  luxuriant. 

This  structure  represents  Portugal  almost  as  well  as 
any  oi;)ject  you  will  see  here,  and  what  it  does  not  rep- 
resent itself,  it  will  hring  before  \-ou  in  the  wide  range 
of  the  horizon  about  it.  Portugal  is  more  remarkable  for 
its  extravagances  than  any  other  spot  on  earth.  If  you 
want  to  learn  the  power  of  an  eartlKpiake  you  can 
find  it  here  as  nowhere  else.  If  you  would  study 
the  .savagery  of  war,  read  the  bloody  tale  which 
begins  with  Gothic  invasions  and  Moorish  txranny 
and  cruellN'  and  Caslilian  nuinlers  and  Spanish 
tortures,  and  continues  through  the  Peninsular  wars 
and  tlie  contest  for  the  succession.  If  you  would  know 
the  horrors  of  a  plague,  read  the  ravages  of  the  \elhnv 
fever  in  Lisl)on.  If  \-ou desire  to  know  how  fir  human 
cruelty  can  go,  learn  the  stor>-  of  Inez  de  Castro, 
and  the  tale  of  I).  .M^on■^o  VI.,  and  the  fite  of  Beatrice 
and  the  Moor,  the  suriender  of  I'rraca,  and  that  long 
list  of  tortures  the  work  of  personal  revenge  and  of 
religious  persecutions.  If  you  would  see  the  extra\-a- 
gance  of  religious  dexotees  and  im])eri;d  usiupers  and 
robbers  and  land-grabbers,  travel  from  town  to  town, 
and  count  the  churches  and  castles  and  convents  from 
Mafra,  o\-erlooking  the  mouth  of  the  Tagns,  to  the  con- 
fiiK.-s  of  the  kini'.doin,  and  v/oniU'i'  at  the  reckless  waste 
of  tre;is»ue  and  toil.  If  yon  wi^li  to  ^ee  tlie  ])erfection 
of  the  stony  deposits  of  the  ice-bound  period  of  tlie 
world,  \i^it  the  enlii'e  Ibeiian  ixiiinsnla  from  the  Pyr- 
enees to  the  Straits  of  ( jibraltar,  and  yon  will  find 
boulderi  in  nature  in  all  it->  i>ossible  gi.indeur. 

A  favorite  dri\e  from  Cintra  brings   you  to  Mafra,  a 
monstrous    architectural     pile    long     since     deserted, 


32    .  A  VtiAR  IN   roKTrGAL 

.standing'  in  solitary  Krajulcur  l)y  llic  sea,  a  iiionuinciit 
ofexlravaj^ancc  and  imperial  folly,  re]i<;iousc-iillmsiasni 
and  weak  anibilioii.  Jt  takes  its  name  frojn  a  small 
villaKe  in  which  stands  this  Palace,  Monastery,  and 
Ikisilica.  a  hn-e  l^nihlinj^^  erected  in  17 17  by  D.Jose  V., 
in  j^ratitudeto  God  f-jr  the  birth  of  a  son,  and  in  fnlfil- 
nient  of  a  vow  he  had  made  that  whenever  the  son  was 
1)orn  he  wonld  erect  a  magnificent  monastery  on  the 
site  of  the  poorest  Priory  in  the  kingdom.  And  this 
Priory  was  at  Mafni— a  hnt  in  which  dwelt  twelve 
Arabidos,  the  ])ooreht  order  in  Portngal.  In  1717  was 
the  foundation  laid,  this  ceremony  alone  costing  200,- 
cx>)  cnnvns.  A  daily  force  of  i4.j(x:>  workmen  was  em- 
ployed thirteen  years  in  the  construction  ;  and  duriTi<'- 
the  entne  tune  45. (<x:)  men  were  engaged  in  the  work. 
The  edifice  cost  i<;,<xx).<k>)  cr :)wns,  and  during  f)neday 
of  the  eight  occupied  in  the  consecration,  the  king 
dined  ').<.» m>  i)ersoiis.  '1'Ir-  length  of  the  wall  running 
north  and  s<Mith  is  1.150  fi-d.  'iMirre  are  xr,6  rooms 
and  p„2(  X  >(](>■  )V^.  'riu-  roof  is  so  bmad  th.it  10, (xk)  nieii 
can  be  reviewed  upon  il,  nu'l  it  is  so  j.olid  that  a  great 
stone  turret,  weighing  at  least  a  ton  and  a  half,  falling 
from  the  tower  to  the  roof,  a  hinidred  and  fifty  feet, 
made  no  imj)re>sion  whatever  on  the  surface.  There 
are  palaces  for  the  king  and  the  queen,  a  magnificent 
audience  chand)er,  a  church  of  great  l)eanty,  ])arracks 
for  the  .soldiers,  and  a  library  y^y  f(,(.-t  in  len-th  con- 
taining y\C)Cx)  volumes,  the  oldest  of  which  are  illu- 
nu'nated  nn"ssals  of  1450.  The  chimes  of  bells  are  won- 
derful — sweet  in  tone,  impressi\-e  in  i)ower.  I'or  a 
hundred  and  .seventy  years  their  great  machinery  has 
worked,  and  is  as  perfect  now  as  it  was  the  day  it  was 
erected.     There  are  two  sets  of  bells,  each  .set  weigh- 


CINTRA  AND  MAFRA.  33 

ing  two  hundred   tons,    costing   one  million    crowns 
apiece,  and  doubled  by  the  extravagant  king,  when 
he  was  reminded  that  the  vast  sum  of  one   million 
crowns  would  be  required  to  pay  for  one.     This  im- 
mense building  stands  on  a  wide  level  spot  in   the 
midst  of  a  small  cluster  of  houses  as  remarkable  for 
their  humility  as  the  great  monastery  is  for  its  gloomy 
greatness.     The  great  front  wall,  blackened  as  all  old 
buildings  in  Kurope  are.  is  an  accumulation  of  lofty 
columns,  high  massive  towers,  deep  niches  ornamented 
by  statues,   and   all    the   wealth   which    architectural 
ingenuity  could  pile  up  in  one  mouulainous  structure. 
The  ample  front  portal  opens  into  a  hall,  whose  walls 
are  adorned  with  colossal  statues  of  saints  and  apostles, 
and  it  leads  into  a  church  of  lofty  proportions,  rich 
decorations,  great  arches,  and  beautiful  chapels.    From 
this  imposing  edifice  you  pass  on  through  innumerable 
rcjoms,    some    adorned    with    fimly    frescoed   ceilings, 
some  as  white  and  still  and  empty  as  a  snow-cave  in 
the  arctic, — all  opening  into  each  other  and  making  a 
vista  like  a  great  avenue.     Tlie  vast  building  ruiniing 
back  from  this  splendid   front,    with   its  church  and 
towers  and  belfries  and  statues,  is  no  more  impressive 
than  the  walls  of  a  huge  cotton-mill.     Its  exterior  is 
of  a  dull  yellowish-brown  color,  its  interior  contains 
the  hospital  with  its  many  stalls,  the  monastery  with 
its  cells  for  the  monks,  the  great  dining-room  with  its 
long,  heavy  tables,  and  the  superb  kitchen.     You  are 
compelled  to  admire  the  well-made  Brazil-wood  doors, 
and  to  wonder  at  the  simple  decaying  window-shutters. 
And  you  watider  about   and   ponder  and  wait  for  a 
group  of  occupants  in  vain,  and  try  to  i)eople  all  the 
solitudes  with  royal  assemblies  and  devotees  and  sol- 
3 


34  A  VliAR  IN  rnWTI'fjAL 

dicrs;  and  you  listen  for  e-chocs  of  the  old  revelry 
and  chants  and  responses.  Ihit  it  is  all  deserted  and 
still  and  useless — waiting;  for  ti  .ic  to  do  its  work, 
Mafra  in  full  blast  must  have  been  a  scene  of  military 
and  ecclesiastical  glory,  such  as  the  world  has  seldom 
seen.     Now  the  desolation  and  repose  are  awful. 

When  this  monastery  was  built  at  Mafra  the  re- 
sources of  Portugal  were  great, — great  for  her  rulers 
and  nobles, — great  for  a  privileged  few,  and  plentiful 
enough  as  they  now  are  for  the  mass  of  the  people. 
Regardless  of  the  wants  of  his  subjects,  indiilerent  to 
the  necessities  <<f  his  great  emi)ire,  the  king  compelled 
all  i^eople  and  all  industries  covered  b>'  the  Portuguese 
flag  to  pay  tribute  to  this  reckless  and  extravagant 
ccjuceit.  And  ntnv  all  industries  and  ])eople  have 
willidrawn  from  its  presence  and  left  it  standing  aK)ne. 
Tiie  power  of  him  who  built  it  is  gone.  The  signifi- 
cance of  the  building  has  passed  away.  The  object 
for  which  it  was  erected  is  forgotten,  and  e\-en  if 
remembered,  is  considered  a  ])iece  of  weakness  and 
folly.  And  yet  it  rejiresejits  wliat  was  once  the  civil 
and  ecclesiastical  power  of  Portugal,  the  former  of 
which  is  in  decay,  and  the  latter  of  which  its  great 
minister  abolished. 

We  dro\-e  o\er  a  wide  region  of  dry  hills  and  valleys 
occu])ied  by  thin  wheat-fields  and  stunted  \'ine>ards, 
wheie  a  povert\-stricken  ])eoi)le  reaped  the  meagre 
grain  and  waited  for  the  small  wine  crop.  There  was 
no  lu.xuriance,  all  was  a  low  level  of  civilization, 
without  sc-hoolhouse  so  far  as  I  could  disco\-er,  and 
surely  without  a  town-hall  or  a  meetingdiouse.  I 
could  not  help  contrasting  this  scene  of  poor  agricul- 
ture and  dead  society  with  the  fertile  fields  and  pleas- 


CINTRA  AND  MAFRA.  35 

atit  homes  and  pr<jtty  villages  where  a  free  and  grateful 
pecjple  erect  monuinental  structures  for  their  heroes  ;  a 
living  and  active  civilization  engaged  in  paying  tribute 
to  those  who  have  made  life  strong  and  aspiring.  But 
I  abandoned  contrast  and  comparison  early,  because 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  every  form  of  civilization 
has  its  purpose,  and  that  the  institutions  established 
by  one  people  are  as  much  entitled  to  respectful  con- 
templation as  those  established  by  another.  So  much 
for  Mafra,  its  building  and  its  lesson. 

.lifoitsf  js(. — We  have  had  our  first  court  reception — ■ 
not  my  presentation,  which  is  still  delayed  on  accoimt 
of  the  illness  of  the  King  ;  but  a  party  given  in  honor 
t)f  the  birthday  of  Dom  AfTonso  Ilenriipies.  The  re- 
i-eplion  was  given  at  Cinlra  in  the  royal  palace,  where 
the  family  spend  two  or  three  montlis  in  midsununer. 

The  palace  is  a  most  interesting  and  homely  old 
building, — :in  irregular  pile  surrounding  a  large  court- 
yard, and  esi>ecially  conspicuous  for  its  tall  conical 
chimne.NS  and  its  fragmentary  archileelure.  It  was  the 
Alhambra  of  the  Moorish  kings  and  passed  from  them 
into  the  possession  of  the  Christian  Portuguese  mon- 
archs.  The  building  was  completed  l)y  Dom  Manuel 
about  A.i).  1500,  and  was  his  residence  when  he  watched 
from  Pena  for  the  retmn  of  Vasco  de  C.ama  from  his 
gieat  voyage  of  (lisco\'ery.  It  is  famous  for  many  his- 
torical events,  and  is  a  curious  mixture-  ol  Christian 
and  Moorish  architecture. 

The  reception  was  held  in  the  great  salon,  a  large 
and  finel>-  decorated  room  about  fifty  feet  long  by 
thirty  feet  wide,  with  a  beautifid  frescoed  ceiling  and 
with  modern  doors,  which  contrast  curiously  with  the 
ancient    type    of    the    walls.      We    entered    this    room 


30  A  y\lAU  IN'  VC)\'j\]r,M, 

llirou;^'li  a  narrow  i)assa},'c  beUvccii  two  pillars  where 
gmsts  who  ex])t:c-tc(l  tf)  Ik-  j)rcscMitc(l  to  the  Kin^  giith- 
crcd.  I  was  introduced  liy  vSenhor  ]{arros  Gomes,  the 
Minister  for  Foreign  AfTairs,  to  liis  Majesty,  who  sat 
during  the  reception  and  ofiered  me  a  chair  by  his 
side.  lie  is  a  gentleman  of  taste  and  talent  and  culture, 
speaks  well  many  languages,  is  a  good  nuisician,  a  first- 
rate  ICnglish  scholar,  and  a  judicitnis  statesman.  My 
conversation  with  him  was  interesting,  and  we  discussed 
the  affairs  of  his  kingdom  with  allusions  to  the  litera- 
ture of  the  United  »States.  He  very  civilly  excused  his 
inability  to  receive  me  formally  on  account  of  his  ill- 
health,  and  assured  niu  thnt  the  informal  interview  we 
were  then  having  would  he  suflficient  in  establish  my 
official  relations  with  Viis  govennnent,  while  my  pre- 
sentation would  come  hereafter.  I  was  ])resente(l  to 
the  Oueen,  M;iria  I'ia,  a  stylish  and  anxious  wom.an 
willi  a  pomp  of  j;oldrii  l):iif,  tin-  danejil.  r  df  Vidor 
J",manuel  ;  and  to  the  Cniwii  l'riii<c;,s,  the  wile  of  Doni 
Carlos,  Marie  Amelie  d'Orleans,  daughter  of  the  Conite 
<le  Paris.  The  present;iti(jn  of  Mrs.  Loring  to  the 
Queen  was  niade  by  Lady  Pelre,  wife  of  the  I'lHtish 
Minister,  who  was  the  dean  of  the  dii)lomatic  corps, 
and  to  tlie  King  by  vSeidior  iJarrtyS  Gomes.  I  left  her 
conversing  with  his  Majesty  while  I  pursued  my  sub- 
stantial ICnglish  way  among  "all  Ivnglish-speaking 
people  "  whom  I  chanced  to  nieet. 

It  was  not  a  lively  reception,  inasmuch  as  the  ladies 
.sat  in  a  solid  and  impenetrable  ma.-^s  along  the  side  of 
the  rof)ni  op])osite  the  royal  family,  while  the  gentlemen 
concentrated  themselves  wherever  they  could  find  room 
in  all  the  dignity  of  black  coats  and,  in  .some  cases,  of 
knee-breeches,      I    was    agreeably    impressed    by    the 


CINTKA  ANI)  MAI'KA.  37 

Crown  Prince,  Doiu  Carlos,  llic  Duke  of  IJraganza,  the 
Infanta,  who  was  niakiu};  himself  generally  attentive,  ' 
and  with  whom  I  had  an  interesting  talk  about  lands 
and  horses  ;  and  also  by  the  Prime  Minister,  Senhor  de 
Castro,  who  told  Mrs.  Loring  he  had  never  been  out 
of  Portugal,  and  had  never  had  a  fire  in  his  nMjin  ;  by 
the  Oueen's  Chamberlain,  the  Duke  of  I.oule,  Master 
of  the  Ilorse;   by  Duke  Albu(iuenjUe  ;  by  the  Russian, 
Swedish,  Dutch,  Austrian.  Ihilish.  and  Brazilian  min- 
isters ;    by  the   vSpanish    Sccretar>',   Polo  de   Barnaby  ; 
by  Marchesa  de  iMUichal,  Lady-in-waiting  to  the  Queen  ; 
aud  by  Dona  Kugcnie  Xitza,   Maid  of  Honor,  a  very 
pretty  person  descended   from   \'asco  de  (lama.      The 
music  was  given  by  a  fine  baud,  which  was  stationed  in 
a  M(;orish  court  and   which  discoursed  the  peculiarly 
graceful  and  livel>'  sti.iius  for  which  I'orltiguese  airs  are 
distinguished.     The  su])pei  was  in  the  famous  dining- 
room  whose  ceiling  is  adoiiied  with  numerous  niag])ii'S, 
bi'aring  in  their  bc.iks  the  mott(»  "  I'or   l!em,"  painted 
there,  by  the  order  of  iKiin  John  !.,  .is  a  rebuke  to  the 
gossips  <jf  the  court,  who  revelled  in  the  fact  that  the 
Queen  caught  him  kissing  f)ne  of  her  maids  of  honor  ; 
and    the    supper   consisted    of   Consonnne   de  perdrix, 
ImIcIs  de   veau   ;\   la    Portuguese,    Uoasl   beef  roli   h  la 
Chateaubriand,  Dindon  brochees  a  la  Peiiipieux,  Jani- 
bon  Westphalian,  Pates  de  foi.K  gras,  vSandwiches  h.  la 
Romaine,   Ices,  and  dr\-  Champagne.     The  tal)le  was 
handsomely  decorated,  and  the  inunerous  waiters  were 
in  red  and  yellow  livery.      Dining  the  supper  the  King 
aud  Queen  remained  in  the  sdon,  the   I'rincess  Amelie 
h.iving  retired  at  an  early  liour.      All  of  which   items  I 
do  most  fiithfully  record. 

Ilildre-lh  .accompanied  us  to  the  reception  and  was 


38  A  YHAK  IN  Vf>\nvr,M. 

imich  iiiiprcsso'l  hy  the  diK'nily  of  tliu  f^ccasioii.  He 
was  i»resci)ti(l  lo  tlu-  Kiii;^  and  OiK-rn,  and  to  the 
Princess  Koyal,  \\]\<>  were  most  kind  and  };raei<nis  to 
liitu. 

'I'lie  tntiantv  lo  this  seen*.'  was  (jnik-  imposing;.  On 
each  si<le  of  the  hroad  staircase  leading  from  the  court- 
yard of  tlie  I'alace  to  tlie  interior  stood  lorch-bearers  in 
Hvery,  red  and  yellow,  wlio  lighted  the  way  to  tiie  not 
very  ini])Osing  hall,  an<l  from  which  yon  ascended  hy  a 
winding  atid  narrow  staircase  of  niarhlc,  without  han- 
ister  or  rail,  into  the  anteroom  <»f  the  salon. 

We  had  the  iileasiu'e  yesterday  of  paying  oiu'  respects 
totheCiown  I'rinceand  hi>'h  nining  I'lincess.  of  whom 
I  have  already  written  We  were  tnet  at  the  gate  of  the 
jiretty  villa  in  whiel;  they  reside  by  a  most  sltu'dy  gate- 
keeper who  t(tok  our  (  ar<is,  and  soon  nluru'd,  indicat- 
ing' that  we  (dnl<l  enter.  We  were  nut  also  al  the  door 
of  the  villa.  l»y  the  Condessa  de  Sahtigosa,  who  re'-i.iwd 
us  most  cordially  and  a<lmilted  u^  into  the  presence-  of 
the  royal  pair.  The  room  was  large  and  high,  with 
walls  decorated  with  a  light  greenish  paper  ornamented 
with  large  figmxs;  it  was  modestly  furnished,  having 
a  few  picltuvs  on  the  wall  and  roun<l  taMes  on  which 
stood  some  china  flower-jxits.  The  I'rince  was  dressed 
in  a  white  flannel  jacket  striped  with  narrow  lines  of 
blue,  a  white  cravat  and  waistcoat,  and  white  checked 
pantaloons.  lie  lor.'ked  cheerful  and  hrii»py.  The 
Princess  was  simply  attired  in  a  gown  of  1)rowni>h 
stud  without  ornament  so  far  ns  1  could  discern.  She 
Icjoked  most  sweet  and  dignified.  She  is  taller  than 
the  Prince,  as  ai>i)eare<l  v.hen  we  entered  and  f(rand 
them  .standing  side  l)y  side  to  receive  us.     While  Anna 


CINTHA  ANI>  MAFRA.  39 

was  talking  Paris  aiul  Lisbon  with  the  Princess,  I  con- 
versed with  the  I'rince  ahont  his  cork-forest,  four 
miles  h)!!^'  by  three  wide,  which  yields  hitn  ^2o,cxx5 
every  eij^lit  years,  tlie  time  refjuired  to  y,ni\\'  a  croj>  of 
coik-l)ark  ;  nhoul  his  swine,  of  wliieh  he  sold  '$T,<\^y)0 
worth  last  year  ;  about  the  waj^es  paid  for  labor — 
25  cents  in  some  i)laces  ami  $r.(X)])er  day  in  others; 
about  his  arran.i^^Mnent  of  the  I'ortut;uese  I''\hibition  at 
Paris  ;  about  the  a.i;riculture  of  the  country  j^enerally  ; 
and  about  his  proposed  trip  to  Paris.  We  had  a  most 
satisfactory  interview.  The  Princess  holds  her  recep- 
tions every  day  at  one  o'cloek. 

It  was  now  considered  jMoper  that  we  should  be 
ofhcially  received  by  the  (Jueen,  and  at  two  o'clock,  on 
the  suKK<-"^ti"H  "'  the  Manpiise  de  iMUiehal  that  wc 
miKht  silect  our  driy,  we  dr«»ve  to  the  prdace  ruid  strolled 
b(.l\viiii  fdes  of  soldiers  up  tlu-  wide  staircase  to  the 
Oueen's  salon.  W'hrii  we  hao  been  admitted  lhroU};h 
the  two  hu^e  doors  hunj^  on  ancient  hitiges,  with 
ancient  knobs  and  latches,  we  were  received  by  the 
Marchesa  de  Inmchal,  accompanied  by  the  Dona 
Nit/.a  de  Ciama,  and  the  Condessa  de  vSan  Mij;uel,  with 
many  gentlemen  unknown  to  us.  After  a  sliort  delay 
we  were  presented  to  the  Queen  by  the  Duke  of  I/)ul6, 
the  Queen's  Chamberlain,  She  occupied  the  satne  sofa 
on  which  she  sat  durinj;  the  birthday  reception.  She 
was  alone  and  was  most  diirnified  and  attractive  in 
her  appearance.  vShe  has  a  jjleasant  face,  tinged  with 
sadness,  and  lighted  by  a  smile.  Our  talk  was  mainly 
on  the  health  of  the  King,  the  antitpiity  of  the  palace, 
the  attractions  of  Paris,  and  the  glories  of  Worth.  The 
fpnel,   gentle   maniu  r  of    the  Queen    remindid    me  of 


40  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

tliosc  admirable  old  ladies  of  Salem,  now  gone,  who  in 
llicir  lives  never  knew  llie  back  of  a  chair,  and  were 
models  of  kindness,  dignity,  and  sincerity.  We  retired 
from  her  presence  with  our  respect  for  her  good  quali- 
ties greatly  increased. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HOR TUGUKSI-:    yXORlCULTUI^K.-AUDinNCE  WITH 
THH  KINr,.-I)nATH  OI-  DOM  AUGUSTO. 

I  have  t'titercfl  upon  an  aj^ricullural  invcstij^ation,  and 
])rop()SL'  to  record  a  view  of  the  only  iiuUistry  for  which 
Portui^al  is  distinj^uished. 

It  isiiatnral  tliat  I,  who  have  been  so  lonp  interested 
in  the  agriculture  of  my  own  country,  should  he  curious 
to  know  ahout  the  farming  of  tliis  country,  which  was 
ancient  before  ours  began,  and  whose  power  was  fully 
developed  bef  jre  the  shores  of  America  were  known. 
Portugal,  which  covers  an  area  a  little  more  than  four 
times  the  size  of  Massachusetts,  is  devoted  almost  en- 
tirely to  agriculture  in  one  form  or  another.     More  than 
fifty  per  cent,  ot  its  .soil  is  ])roductive,  and  the  remainder 
is  for  grazing  and  forest.    In  depth  of  ravines,  and  in  lofty 
piles  of  high  and  startling  boulders,  Portugal  stands  fore- 
most among  the  nations  of  the  earth.    She  iloes  not  raise 
grain  enough,  it  is  true,  for  home  consumptit)n, — but  she 
produces  nearly  S^^o.ooo.cxio  worth  of  wineloijuench  the 
thirst  of  home  and  foreign  multitudes.  The  cultivation  of 
her  ]>roductive  lands  is  almost  universal, — but  few  acres 
lying  idle.    Her  market-gardens  are  models  of  neatness 
and    careful    management.       The   caj)ital    invested    in 
mruuifaclures  is  abotit  5i3,(xy),(KX),  and  the  annual  pro- 
duction  is  estimated  at  about  <.iH,(jkk),ckx)  ;   while  tiie 


42  A  YEAR  IN   F'ORTLT.AL. 

cereal  productions  of  the  kingdom  amount  annually  to 
>43, 087,000.  Sb.e  imports  cottcu  to  the  amount  of 
$4,132,700,  raw  and  manufactured  ;  farinaceous  articles 
amounting  to  $S, 203,633  ;  animals  and  animal  produc- 
tions, $3,165, ocxd,  Ilerexpoits,  consisting  large!}'  of 
C(irk-bark  and  wine,  amount  to  $24,801,761,  Mean- 
while,  she   produces  of   Indian    corn    $2o,477,3(«;   of 

wheat,  $i3,3^5<^^-^^  !  'J^"  O'*-'!  ^3.9M'4i'^;  o^  barley, 
$1,406, 160, 

Tlie  crops  vary  largely  in  amount, — ranging  from  5 
bushels  of  wheat  to  to  bushels  to  the  acre  ;  and  rye  in 
al)out  the  same  j)r()iK)rtion.  According  to  careful 
oflicial  estimates  contained  in  the  report  of  the  Director- 
General  of  Agriculture,  land  ferlili/.ed  with  $5.25  worth 
of  manure  or  other  fertili/x-r,  will  produce  27  bushels 
of  wheat  on  2jj  acres;  the  vahie  of  the  wheat  and 
straw  Ining  <,y),  and  costing  530.01,  'I'his  is  a  wheat 
croj)  following  r\e  ;  of  wlieat  aftrr  jtotatocs  the  amoiuit 
raist'd  was  31 'j  bushels  on  2'!'  acres,  value'l  at  $31.50, 
witli  the  straw  at  $4.50  ;  the  crop  costing  $33. <xx  Of 
Indian  corn,  the  estimate  is  interesliTig.  as  follows  on 
2j J  acres  : 

Labor  of  oxm,  i)lou;.;liiiig  ami  liarrowiui; ;f;io.oo 

^'■^•'1 75 

21  flays'  liotiii},',  at  2(j  els,  per  <l.iy }.8<> 

6  <la\s'  watcriii).; i.Sd 

Mamiri)i>; 6.30 

Ilarvc'sliiiL;,  Iniskiii^,  and  slKjJliiii; 4.20 


IvxptiisfS ^27.S 


Crop,  33 '<  l)uslifls  oil  2  !i  acres,  valncl ?33-75 

Corn  fodder  oti  2^*2  acres S.(k> 

;f4i-75 


l'()RTlJGl!I-Sn  AGRICULTURE.  43 

Potatoes,  according  to  the  estimate,  yield  2>^5y2 
bushels  on  2;^  acres,  and  are  valued  at  $75.60,  costing 
$66.46.  The  market-price  of  wheat  is  about  $1.00  per 
bushel;  Indian  corn,  $1.00;  rj-e,  75  cts.  ;  barley,  70 
cts.  ;  oats,  35  cts  ;  white  beans,  $i.oS  ;  potatoes,  60  cts. 
P>eef  ])rini;s  11  cts.  per  jumuuI  ;  veal,  10  cts.  ;  nuitton, 
7  cts.  ;  pork,  10  cts.  The  wages  of  farm-hands  is 
abor.t  25  els.  ]K'r  day  for  men,  and  12  cts.  for  women. 

Tlie  price  of  wine  in  Portugal,  according  to  oflicial 
reports,  varies  from  55  cts.  to  Si.  10  per  gallon.  The 
yield  })er  acre  varies  as  largely  as  the  cereal  crops  to 
which  I  have  alluded.  The  ravages  of  the  phyloxera 
have  l)een  great  in  some  sections  of  the  country  ;  and 
the  introduction  of  American  vines,  which  are  free  from 
the.se  i)ests,  has  not  resulted  as  favorably  as  was  hoped. 
The   wine   product   in   1S.S2  was    i25,(kx),(xw)  gallon's, 

valued  at  /,.=>. 7* ><>.<*< '<'• 

A  wide  landscai)e  in  Portugal  ])resents  to  view  a  great 
numb(.r  of  farms,   and  constant  succession  of  cultivated 
fields  devoted  to  grain  croi)s,  the  weight  of  which  varies 
most  remarkably.     Tlie  agricultural  condition  of  the 
sections  varies  greatly  also.     The  Director-General  finds 
on  investigation  that  the  increase  or  dimituition  of  popu- 
lation depends  on  the  condition  of  agriculture,  and  not 
as  in  New  Ivngland  on  the  growth  or  decline  of  nuuui- 
factures.     The  prf)Sperity  of  the  country    depetuls  ou 
the  fertility  of  the  soil  and  the  .skill  displayed  in  its 
cultivation  ;  and  where  the  ancient  methods  remain,  the 
population  seems  to  grow  fewer,  and   the  soil  poorer. 
In  addition  to  this,  the  ten  years  from    1S7S  to    1S88 
were  attended  with  great  disasters.      Oil  has  found  a 
poor  market,  cattle  have  been  low,  and  the  vines  have 
failed.     The  production  of  silk  has  not  been  profitable. 


44  A  YliAK  IN  l'(  »lv  ITCAL. 

A  large  portion  of  the  land  came  under  mortgage,  ^vhen 
held  by  the  people  in  small  farms.     The  pastures  of 
Portugal,  except  in  the  Douro  district  at  the  north,  are 
jioor  ;  and  the  hay  crop  is  universally  light.     The  food 
of  horses  and  cattle  consists  entirely  of  straw  and  grain. 
The  land  '.s  mainly  held  in  large  estates,  and  is  managed 
by  tenants  who  either  rent  ihe  farms  at  a  fixed  price  or 
carry   them   (jn   sh:ires.      Horses,   sheep,   goals,   cattle, 
swine,  and  donkeys  abound.    The  slice]-)  have  lost  much 
of  their  (juality  as  merinos,  for  which  they  were  formerly 
distinguished.     The  cattle  are  very  fine.     I  have  never 
seen  in  anv  country  so  many  admirable  oxen  as  I  have 
seen  in  and  around  Lisbon.     They  are  large,  measuring 
often  se\-en  feet  and  three  or  four  inches,  of  a  imiform 
dun    color,   with    stately,    well-formed   limbs,   straight 
bodies,  wide  hips,   and  <lelic;ite    ;uid  at  the  same  time 
firm  heads.      They   work   in    jiiiirs  or  singly,   and   are 
tr.ained  to  perfection.     They  are  evidently  a  breed  of 
the  coiuitiy,--caret'nlly   juvserved.   as  will  be  seen  by 
the  rules  adopted  by  the  managers  of  the  agricidtm-al 
cxhil)itions.     The  implements  of  husbandry  are  a  one- 
handled  jdough,   a  long-h.indled  sj^ade,  and   "the  ox 
that  treadeth  out  the  ccjrn."' 

In  Lisbon  there  are  rarajn'as,  or  milk-stores,  in 
which  are  kejit  from  six  to  twenty  cows.  ])rovide<l  v.ith 
elegantly  fnrnislied  stalls,  ki-pt  perfectly  clean,  and 
used  to  supi)ly  fresh  milk  to  customers.  The  lowsand 
the  counter  are  in  the  same  apartment.  They  are 
among  the  finest  specimens  of  dairy  cows  I  have  ever 
seen,  being  Holsteins  of  moderate  size  ruid  admirable 
shape,  and  well-developed  grade  Jerseys,  They  arc 
fed  on  all  they  can  eat  of  wheat  .straw,  carelessly 
threshed  by  treading  and  coarsely  chopped  ;  to  which 


POKTUGULSE  AGKMCULTURl:.  4$ 

are  added  twice  a  day  about  ten  quarts  of  a  mixture  of 
large  beans  soaked  and  coarse  wheat-bran — three  quarts 
of  beans  and  seven  of  wheat-bran, — evidently  a  most 
nutritious  food. 

Great  care  has  been  taking  in  breeding  horses,  and 
the  govenunent  has  established  sixty-five  breeding 
studs,  thirty-one  in  the  north,  and  thirty-four  at  the 
south,  in  which  may  l)e  found  the  Tlioroughbred  the 
cross  of  Arab  and  Portuguese,  tlie  Anglo-Xonnan,  the 
Clevehuid  bay,  the  Hackney,  the  Anglo- Arab,  the 
cross  of  Portuguese  and  Morocco.  They  breed  espe- 
cially for  the  saddle  throughout  the  kingdom,  and 
sure-footed,  elastic,  well-made  horses  for  this  purpose 
can  be  found  everywhere. 

In  iSSS  the  Department  of  Agriculture  organized  a 
most  interesting  exhibition  in  the  city  of  LisbcMi.  The 
directors,  in  organizing  the  show,  presented  with  great 
force  the  character  of  the  display  they  desired,  and  the 
advantages  to  be  deriveil  from  it.  They  urged  the 
judges  to  consider  carefull\-  the  fitness  of  various  ani- 
mals for  the  service  recpiired  of  them  and  for  the 
demaiuls  of  the  market.  ICspecial  attention  was  called 
to  the  breeds  of  animals  already  existing  in  Portugal, 
which,  being  accustomed  to  the  climate  and  food,  thrive 
well  and  fatten  early  ;  and  great  care  in  the  .selection  of 
animals  for  crossing  was  luged.  Great  .satisfaction 
was  expressed  with  tlie  native  bulls,  while  the  neces- 
sity for  using  better  .strUlions  was  strongly  laid  dowti. 
They  encouraged  Portuguese  and  not  foreign  breeds  of 
cattle  therefore  ;  iti  fact,  they  especially  (objected  to  the 
introduction  of  foreign  breeds  if  they  tend  to  weaken 
the  native  stock.  The  premiums  offereil  under  these 
rules    were  very  liberal  and  significant.      For  the  best 


46  A  YUAR  IN  I'ORTUGAL. 

Stallion  $200;  for  the  best  lot  of  marcs  $So ;  for  the 
best  lot  of  colts  <''><> ;  for  llie  best  ^eldinj^  $200  ;  for  the 
best  saddle  liorse  '$i'><\  For  the  best  bull  the  i)remuini 
olTered  was  '$C><>  ;  for  the  best  lot  of  ^-raiiis  $iS  ;  for  the 
best  boar  ;?2o.  No  premium  was  offered  f(jr  specific 
breeds. 

The  exhibiti(Mi  created  ^reat  interest  and  was  larj;ely 
attended, 

I'ortu.^'al  has  for  a  long  time  encourai;ed  agricultural 
education,      lujr  many  years  the  government  supported 
a  school,  not  far  from  Cintra,  at  an  amuial  expense  of 
$23,2X4..   The  students  received  free    tuition,  and  the 
remainder  mnnbering  about  fifty,  ])aid  >.S.io;i  month 
each  for  the  service.     The  best  agricultural  impU-ments 
were  pnn'ided  for  prep-iring  the  land,  .seeding  and  har- 
vesting.    The    cultivation    of    market-ganlening     and 
field    crops  w;is   carefully  attended  to.     \'ines  of  the 
best  varieties  were  introduced.     The  dairy  was  man- 
aged  according  to  the    most   approved    s)-stem.     The 
care  of  suijie,  i)onltry,  .and  bees  was  especially  tatight. 
The  graduates  of  this  inslilution,  now  established  near 
Coinjbra,  are  in  constant  (Uniand  as  su[Krintendc'ntsof 
estates;    an«l  the  aj)plications  f<«r   admission   into   the 
college   far   e.xcred   its   a<'<'ommo(l;iii(»ns.     'I'he  college 
can  hardly  Ix;  called  classical  or  purely  scienlin<'.     Of 
the  s<h<>ol  rind  Its  elforl  it  lias  been  sai<l  :     "  There  aie 
^reat  diniculties  to  be  overcome  in  displacing  the  old  to 
make  room  for  the  new,  however  great  the  improve- 
ments of  the  latter  in  a  country  whose  peasantry  have 
been  bred  to  ancient  ways,  and  who  fear  the  iimovation 
of  new  idcMS  aufl  l.dxtr-sax'ing  ap))li:uices  may  deprive 
tlM'in  <>\'  \\]<-  f.'ppoilunity  lo  <ai  n  a  lis'ing  by  work   and 
.so  condemn  tliem  to  a  }.;rcater  poverty  than  they  now 


rOKTUGUIISn  AGKICULTURE.  47 

endure.  But  gradually  the  little  leaven  of  the  institu- 
l.ion  is  leavc'niii};  the  mass."  In  addition  to  this  insti- 
tulion,  I'ortngal  has  now  a  well-endowed  system  of 
edneation. 

The  eharaclcristics  of  this  industrial  organization 
which  I  have  briefly  described  are  sim[)lieity  and 
economy.  The  investments  are  not  large  nor  are  the 
profits.  The  amount  of  money  involved  is  compara- 
tively small.  The  wages  of  labor,  as  1  have  pointed 
out,  are  very  low  ;  and  steady,  long-continued  toil  is 
the  law  of  life.  I  have  seen  laborers  going  to  the  field 
before  sum'ise  on  long  summer  days,  and  I  have  seen 
them  returning  at  twilight  in  the  evening.  Their  re- 
])ose  they  take  at  mid-day.  I  have  seen  twenty  reapers 
at  work  in  a  wheat-field  which  a  reaper  and  binder 
would  have  cut  in  a  few  morning  hours,  and  the  field 
Avas  not  half  reaped  towards  the  close  of  the  forenoon. 
In  it  all  I  saw  no  recognized  personal  i)overty  nor  did  I 
see  much  wealth  or  energy  or  ambition.  The  iK'ojile  were 
well  fed  if  we  may  judge  by  strength  and  form  and  nnis- 
cle.  In  fact,  the  l'ortu;-;uese  are  a  will-made  people.  'I'he 
strength  of  the  ])orters  is  ama/.iug.  The  longshoremen 
aie  vi^'.orous  and  strong.  The  solditis  ha\'e  sturdy 
habits  and  a  great  stride.  The  yomig  men  who  go 
loilh  to  their  business  in  IJsbon  liavi'  athlilie  fiames. 
TIk-  jx  destrians  in  Ciiitra  possess  great  muscular  power 
— else  the  hills  would  kill  them.  There  is  apparently 
no  haste  here.  The  climate  is  delightful.  The  soil  is 
easily  culti\-ateil.  Summer  in  ilifferent  decrees  is  per- 
petual. 

An  eN<uisioii  :imouj',  the  firms  around  Cintra  is 
most  delightful.  Apple  \\a\  lies  along  the  sea  about 
five  miles  awa\\  and  in  reaching  it  yon  dri\e  u[>  and 


^^  A  vi;ar  in  y()un'(jM. 

(1"%vn  the  sUcp  hills  f>r  wliirh  Ciiilra  is  famous,  be- 
tween llie  liiKh,  lhick-])laskKrl  sloiic-walls.  Iiuiik'  with 
viiK-s  aiul  ferns  and  Kcranituns,  wliich  Imund  the  road 
on  either  hand,  out  into  an  (^pen  eountry  with  a  sandy 
way.  and  alon^  Uic  foot  of  a  hi-h  raiiKc  of  hills,  until 
y<.u  reach  the  sea.  These  hills  are  literally  covered 
with  vineyards  from  which  the  famous  Collares  wine 
is  madc—Collares  hein^r  a  small  villaj^e  through 
which  you  drive  on  your  way  to  Apple  J{;iy.  The 
sea  view  here  is  as  fine  as  any  you  ^vt  at  Marhlehead 
or  Cape  Ann  or  Cape  Cod  or  the  shores  of  Maine, 
—in  s(nne  respects  finer.  Apple  J'.ay  has  a  short  heacli 
between  two  hit;]i  proniont(^ries,  at  the  focjt  and  up  the 
sides  of  which  are  piled  -reat  blwks  of  a  black,  roui;h, 
seamed  rock,  indented  as  if  it  had  been  pelted  with 
eternal  hailstones.  The  breakers  against  the.se  rocks 
are  sid)lime,  and  the  .surf  of  the  beach,  stretcliiii};  from 
one  breaker  to  the  other,  is  a  great  silver-bond  to  com- 
I)K  te  the  j)iclure.  I  have  never  seen  on  our  coast,  even 
after  a  .slorni,  such  activity  of  the  .^ea.  The  ocean 
beyo-nd  gave  no  evidence  of  a  gale,  but  the  surf  rolled 
up  three  high  waves  deep  with  great  while  crests  and 
a  roar  as  if  they  were  enraged  by  Uxir  limilerl  sphere 
of  actiryii.  The  ocean  liere  is  most  "  beautifully  blue," 
and  .sparkles  over  its  entire  surface.  The  .sky  above  is 
bluer,  if  possible,  and  you  feel  as  if  all  nature  realized 
the  jihenomena  (jf  tliis  voU-ani ;  rfMintry. 

I  Ijave  been  received  by  the  King  at  the  old  jyalace 
at  Cintra,— rpiite  cmt  of  the  usual  crmrse,- this  being 
the  first  time  in  modern  days  that  a  foreign  minister 
lias  had  an  audience  cmtside  of  l.isl^on  anrl  the  Aiuda 
Talace.     The  extreme  illness  of  the   Kinj;   rendered 


AUniENCi:  WITH  THE  KING.  AO 

this  ijcecssary.  The  ceremony  look  place  at  two 
o'clock.  I  drfjvc  to  llic  palace,  which  is  about  three 
minutes'  walk  from  the  hotel,  armed  with  the  Presi- 
dent's letter  accrediting  me,  and  a  copy  of  my  address 
to  the  King.  When  I  reached  the  wide  marble 
steps  leading  to  the  broad  landing,  I  was  taken  in 
hand  by  attendants  in  gorgeous  livery  and  escorted  to 
the  anteroom  of  the  reception  salon  of  the  palace  in 
which  was  given  the  birthday  ball  I  have  already 
described.  There  I  was  met  by  his  ICxccllency  vSenhor 
IJarros  Gomes,  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  who 
left  me  with  the  Marchesa  de  Funchal  and  Made- 
moiselle Nitza  de  Gama,  Ladies-in-waiting.  Kre 
long  the  doors  of  the  great  salon  were  thrown  open 
and  a  group  of  gentlemen,  brilliant  in  uniform  and 
decorations,  passed  on — the  cabinet  ministers,  as  we 
should  call  them.  The  Grand  Chanil)erlain  led  the 
way.  Tlie  procession  filed  across  the  great  landing 
and  left  me  with  the  ladies,  — and  I  also  was  in  waiting. 
In  a  few  minutes  my  comi)anions  were  summoned,  and 
I  was  in  wailing  alone.  At  last  my  signal  came,  and 
I  passed  across  the  opeJi  space  into  a  small  red  room 
containing  the  King,  the  Queen,  aixl  Prince  AfTotiso, 
the  ladies-in-waiting,  and  the  cabinet.  The  King  sat 
opposite  the  entrance  iji  a  handsome  arm-chair  uphol- 
stered with  brocade.  He  looked  feeble  and  sick,  and 
with  his  decorations  and  n<atly  fitting  drcs'^-suit,  he 
most  ai)propriately  rei)resentcd  his  ai^ed  kingdom.  He 
receive<l  the  Presidiiil's  letter,  which  I  presented,  and 
I  i)roceeded  to  deliver  my  speech  as  follows: 

"Your  Majesty:    I  have  the  honor  to  be  charged 
by  the  President  of  the  United  States  with  the  pleasing 
and  honorable  duly  of  presenting  to  Your  Most  Faith- 
4 


50  A  VCAI''   IN  l'()Kri!f.AI,. 

ful  ^^ajcsty  a  letter  nccreditiiivc  mc  as  Minister  Uesident 
to  your  Majesty's  }<<Aeriinieiit. 

"  I  Itrin^  with  mc  fn^ni  the  government  and  people 
of  the  United  vStates  the  most  cordial  feelinj^s  of  friend- 
sliip  and  ^ood  will.  'Die  amicaldc  relations  which 
have  so  lon^  existed  between  Portugal  and  the  I'nited 
States  have  heen  continued  williout  ])reak  or  intermis- 
sion from  the  time  when  Wasliington  sent  his  fa\orite 
general  and  friend,  the  jwet  of  the  Americati  revolution, 
to  represent,  as  its  first  minister,  the  young  republic  at 
this  court  c>f  renown  and  achievement.  The  f(junders 
of  American  connnercc  were  intimate  with  the  mer- 
chants and  captains  of  Lisbon,  whose  name  is  still 
cherished  in  our  maritime  communities. 

"It  is  a  source  of  great  gratification  that  in  all 
vicissitudes  these  relati(Mis  have  ne\'er  been  broken. 

"  In  his  communication  to  ni}-  faithful  and  distin- 
guished predecesscjr,  ainiouming  my  appointment  to  the 
post  he  so  honorably  filled,  the  Secretary  (jf  State  in- 
formed him  that  I  ha\eheld  an  important  official  relation 
to  the  agriculture  of  the  I'nited  Slates  aseonuuissioner. 
In  this  service  I  have  learned  the  \alue  of  natioiial  in- 
dustries to  the  welfare  of  the  state,  and  I  trust  I  maybe 
allowed  to  obsc-rve  and  in\x>tigate  the  method  by  which 
Your  Majesty's  people  ])reservc  and  de\'elop  tliat  occu- 
pation which  is  the  fundamental  calling  of  all  nations, 
the  Central  ])illar  in  that  social  system  of  which  com- 
merce and  manufactures  are  the  associates,  and  which 
binds  all  peoples  together  in  a  common  brotherhood. 

"  On  my  journey  hither,  I  took  occasion  to  visit  and 
examine  the  specimens  of  her  various  industries  which 
Portugal  had  sent  to  the  great  exhibition  at  Paris  ;  and 
I  am  hajipy  in  ha\ing  this  (opportunity  to  express  to 


AUDlliNCI-   WITH  Till;  KING.  5! 

Your  ^^ajc•sly  my  admiration  of  ihc  collection,  as  illus- 
tratint;  the  taste  and  skill  of  Vonr  Majesty's  people. 

"  W'liile  extending;  to  Yonr  Majesty's  government 
these  assurances  of  the  sincere  friendship  entertained 
l)y  the  government  and  people  of  the  United  vStates,  I 
express  also  their  deep  interest  in  Vonr  Majesty's  per- 
sonal welfare  and  happiness,  and  their  hope  that  Your 
Majesty  may  enjoy  a  l<jng  and  prosperous  reign." 

To  which  His  Majesty  made  the  following  reply  : 

"  Mr.  Minister  :  I  receive  with  much  pleasure  the 
letter  by  which  you  are  accredited  as  Minister  Resident 
near  me,  and  am  gratified  to  hear  the  expressions 
of  cordiality  which  you  connnunicatc  to  me  from  the 
President  and  the  noble  people  of  the  United  vStates  of 
America. 

"  The  political  and  connnercial  relations  between  the 
two  nations,  .so  auspiciously  maintained  without  inter- 
ruption during  nearly  a  century,  tend  not  only  to  j^re- 
.ser\e  their  friendship  but  to  increase  more  and  more  by 
the  simultaneous  development  of  the  two  pef)ples  as 
exhibited  in  their  industrial  ])rogress  and  agricultural 
productions. 

"  The  eminent  qualities  with  which  you  are  endowed, 
and  their  recognition  by  a  previous  appointment  to  an 
important  commission  which  you  lately  discharged,  will 
greatly  strengthen  and  contribute  to  these  relations. 

"  The  knowledge  of  mutu:il  interests  accpiired  by 
the  observation  wliich  the  exercise  of  that  charge  gave 
you,  is  a  guaranty  that  your  mission  will  have  a  bene- 
ficial influence  on  the  increase  of  commercial  transac- 
tions and  of  communication  between  the  two  countries, 
and  in  strengthening  the  bonds  of  friendship  between 
the  two  nations. 


52  A  VI:aK  in  rC^RTI'iJAL. 

"For  that  imrpose  yoii  may  count  upon  the  assidu- 
ous coopcTati<Mi  of  my  govcninicut  and  my  good  will." 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  King's  speech  \vc  i)arted, 
and  I  turned  to  the  Queen,  who  was  laden  with  pearls 
and  jewels  adorning  a  white  satin  dress,  and  expressed 
to  her  the  respect  my  government  has  for  her  ^lajesty. 
1  then  i)aid  my  respects  to  the  Prince  who  stood  near, 
and  on  a  signal  from  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Afi^urs  I 
departed. 

A  Portuguese  vSunday  is  the  usual  ICuropeau  mixture 
of  Sunday  and  holiday.  I  had  a  full  experience  of 
one  yesterday— at  a  rude  market-place  in  Cintra,  where, 
I  was  told,  I  could  see  the  people  and  the  products  of 
their  industry.  lioth  are  unpolished,  ajid  I  looked 
about  the  rough  crowd  to  find  the  finely  .shaped  pot- 
tery which  the  peasantry  of  vSoutherii  Fairope  claim  as 
their  specialty.  The  scene  was  primitive  and  quaint  ; 
the  people  were  coarsely  clad  ;  the  wares  exposed  for 
sale  were  couuucju  ;  the  animals  were  v.retched  ;  and 
the  "articles  manufactured  from  leather  "  were  most 
ordinary.  When  we  reached  the  fair  ground.— a  rough 
valley  in  a  roiigher  village,  shaded  by  a  few  shadowy 
trees,  and  adorned  with  a  very  dilapidated  stone  1)and- 
stand,— we  found  a  vast  collection  of  coarse  pottery, 
jars  and  jugs  ungla/ed,  and  milk-pans  glazed,  with  no 
beauty  whatever.  The  utile  completely  displaced  the 
dithi,  and  we  wandered  on  disappointed,  to  fall  in  with 
a  large  table  of  cheap  trinkets  and  gewgaws,  at  which 
Loring  lingered  and  bought  only  a  huge  clasp-knife. 
Thence  we  proceeded  through  a  collection  of  sad- 
dlery— cheap  bridles  and  straps  tan-colored — and  enor- 
mous i>ack-saddles.     Bevond  these  was  a  large  herd  of 


AUDIfiNCr:  WITH  TIllZ  OUEEN.  53 

swine — old  and  yoinig,  black  and  white — lyinj?  lazily 
a1)Out  and  attract!  11  j;  <^reat  attention  from  the  crowd 
who  evidently  never  lieard  of  the  morale  of  a  Jew  or 
the  dani;er  of  trichina.  The  people  at  the  fair  were 
evidently  of  the  lowest  order.  We  made  onr  visit 
.short  and  retnrned  to  the  qniet  of  onr  hotel  and  the 
delights  of  our  l)ooks. 

At  noon  we  were  .sudilenly  informed  that  the  day 
was  the  Oueen's  name-daj-  and  her  majesty  was  receiv- 
ing. It  was  vSt.  Maria's  day.  When  we  reached  the 
palace  we  found  t'.ie  coint  and  the  diplomatic  cMrps  as- 
.scmhled  in  the  anteroom  of  the  great  salon.  The  pretty 
Princess  Amelie  greeted  us  very  cordially  and  we  were 
at  once  presented  to  the  Oueen  by  the  Grand  Chamber- 
lain. The  inter\-iew  was  short.  The  condition  of  the 
King's  health  c;;st  a  ^h.adow  over  the  occasion,  and 
created  in  the  Queen  an  air  of  sadness  and  ner\'ousness 
wliich  it  was  tcniching  to  contemplate.  vShe  was  at- 
tended by   her  younger  .son,   J\m\  Affonso. 

Ocfolur  ^l/t.  —  It  is  a  rainy  day-the  flr^t  we  have 
had  in  Cintra,  and  I  sujipose  what  is  called  here  the 
rainy  .season  has  begun.  After  days  and  weeks  of 
bright  sun  the  fogs  began  to  gather  over  the  western 
sea,  towards  the  approach  of  c\-cning,  and  at  last  they 
rolled  over  the  land  in  great  masses  and  took  possession 
of  liill  and  valley.  And  now  they  have  made  np  a 
good  vigorous  rain  storn\,  not  rising,  as  in  New  Ivng- 
land,  against  the  wind,  and  showing  their  cloudy  signs 
iu  the  west  preparatory  to  a  northeaNler,-  but  gather- 
ing on  the  sea])oard  as  the  troops  of  the  Duke  t)f  Wel- 
lington gathered  and  marching  iidand  with  favoritig 
gales,  coiuptering  and  to  ciMKpier.  I  like  the  day. 
req)etual  smishine  or  "eternal  sinishine,"  as  the  poet 


54  A  vi;ar  in  rciRirr.AL. 

has  it,  is  lircscnnc.  A  rainy  day  is  ^(kkI  for  contcinpla- 
lioii.  While  the  earth  and  sky  are  i)erfornniig  their 
toilet  and  preparing  for  the  gay  season  of  ])right 
weather,  one  ean  withdraw  from  them  and  turn  to 
his  own  seelusion.  The  seenes  of  Cintra  are  inde<.cl 
fascinating — and  you  never  tire  of  contemplating  the 
great  rocky  hills  and  the  deep  verdant  ravines — pet)pled 
with  such  heroic  names  as  John  de  ('astro  and  St. 
I'Vancis  Xavier  and  \'asco  de  Gama  and  Dom  Manuel, 
— and  l(K>king  down  upon  the  great  theatre  of  Welling- 
ton's martial  exploits  ;  the  chosen  al)o<les  o(  historic 
Moors  and  Christians  ;  the  heights  where  castles  i)erch, 
and  the  valleys  where  convents  and  monasteries  hi<le  ; 
the  region  of  luxuriant  gardens  and  sterile  hills  ;  — )<)U 
do  not  easily  tire  of  tlVis  sc-ene  with  all  its  associations. 
There  is  nothing  here  after  the  usual  order.  The 
stfjrms,  as  I  have  said,  come  up  with  the  wind  and 
nuike  arrangements  for  a  regular  incursi«jn. 

I  went  yesterday  to  see  the  model  farm  of  the 
region.  Instead  of  a  cheerful  firm-steading  with 
broad  fertile  fields  and  a  pleasant  outlook,  betcjken- 
ing  thrift,  f<jr  man  and  beast,  I  found  a  huge  nion- 
aslery  occupying  a  small  plateau  surrounded  by  the 
most  stupendous  and  gigantic  construction  of  cliff 
and  liill  and  boulder  I  have  yet  .seen  even  in  this 
region  of  rocky  greatness.  The  approach  was  through 
a  long  aveiuie  lined  with  trees  wluxse  heads  were  tied 
together  to  make  an  arch.  The  entrance  to  the  mansion, 
now  reduced  from  ecclesiastical  to  secular  })urposes,  was 
through  the  .stable-yard,  where  we  .stopped  to  contem- 
plate the  lujrses  and  their  stalls  before  we  were  received 
by  the  master  in  his  drawing-room.     As  he  was  dining 


A  PORTUGlinsn  FARM.  55 

^ve  passed  oti  to  an  imposing  stone  stable  for  the  cows, 
forty    in   number,   a   l)uil(ling   with  picturesque  walls 
made  of  irregular  stones  of  various  colors  and  joined 
]jy  pink  mortar,  whose  wide-raised  scams  looked  like 
great  veins  and  tendons,  with  an  interior  fdled  with 
stylish  stalls  and  floored  with  stone.     Then  we  visited 
.'iu  imposing  piggen,-,  also  floored  with  slone,  with  paved 
yards  where  a  multitude  of  swine  grumbled  over  their 
cleanliness  and  were  pining  for  a  good  dig  in  the  .soil. 
From    this    we    mounted   a   little   stony   height   to   a 
columbarium  which  rose  like  a  tower   out   of  a  rab- 
bit hutch,  where  numerous  unhappy  rabbits  were  con- 
flned  in  little  wire  cages,  one  for  each  rabliit  ;  accom- 
modations which  neither  pigs  nor  rabbits  seemed  to 
enjoy.      All  this  led  to  the  kitchen  garden  whose  little 
crops  of  cal)l)ages  and  carrots  and  melons  and  grapes 
and  lettuce  I  will  not  describe.     We  passed  through 
a  series  of  poultry  yards  in  which  hens,  turkeys,  geese, 
and  ducks  were  enjoying  their  confuiement  ;  and  we 
were   then    guided   into   a   dairy    whose    architectural 
])eauty  and  marble  tabk-s  and  porcelain  pans  and  tes- 
.sellated  floor  occupied  so  nuich  of  our  attention,  that 
we  forgot  the  emptiness  of  the  pans  and  the  .small  sup- 
ply of  butler.     No  dair)'  nu\chinery  was  visible— the 
season  however  was  adver.se  and  the  pasture  feed  .short. 
15y  this  time  the  dinner  was  over  and  we  were  most 
kindly  received  by  Count  Pena  I.onga,  an  old  gentleman, 
with  a  silk  cap  on  his  head  and  attended  by  a  huge 
.stately  Danish  bloodhound,  of  a  rich  .slaty  color,  related 
to  the  famous  dogs  of  IJismarck.     The  old  gentleman 
ushered  us  into  a  handsotne  .salon  through  which  was 
.scattered  a  small  supply  of  rich  furniture  ;  thence  into 
a  beautiful  chai)el  with  an  imposing  altar  and  a  lofty 


5^> 


A  Y1;AI/  in  I-CJIMTCAL 


jK-w  ill  the  wall  for  royuUy  ;  lliencc  through  charm- 
ing cloisUrs  iiUo  a  fmc  dining-room  wlierc  sat.  a  long 
table  ^vilh  a  great  array  of  empty  chairs  and  a  little 
table  where  the  host  took  his  solitary  meal — for  lie  is  a 
lonely  old  man  of  simple  ways,  v.'ithout  ser\'aiits  in 
livery  or  even  a  stylish  butler.  He  was  very  hospitable 
and  presented  us  with  a  large  basket  of  fruit  when  we 
left.  He  boasted  of  his  butter — I  boasted  of  my  milk. 
He  said  he  laid  out  his  farm  with  five  hundred  men, 
and  now  with  a  nni<  ii  re<bued  foixe  wastrving  to  make 
ilsuppoil  itself  by  furnishing  biitti  r  to  the  King  and 
some  of  his  foitiuiate  subjeets,  I  told  him  I  had  bcell 
nraily  lliirty  >'i'ais  tiying  1h<-  .same  evpi  linunl  in  vain 
--  bairing  the  royal  (  n-ilomcis.  This  is  the  model  farm 
of  Cinlra,  i>eihaj)-.  of  this  jtart  of  rorlugal.  And  this  is 
the  fale  of  one  of  the  snp])rrssed  monasteries  of  I'ortu- 
gal.  The  scenery  around  this  farm  is  extremely  deso- 
late, the  rocky  ]>eaks  rising  high  above  the  sterile  ]>lains, 
if  i)Iains  lliey  can  Ite  calU  d.  Tiie  plain  is  named  I'ena 
I/'iiga  -  so  iianiid  on  ;i<count  of  an  enormous  boidder 
which  stands  on  end  at  the  very  ])eak  of  a  high  cluster 
of  rocks  as  if  jilanted  there  by  the  hand  of  man. 


C)  vSenhor  Dom  Augusto  Maria  Fernande/.  Carh>s 
Miguel  Gabriel  Raphael  Agricola  Francisco  de  Assis 
Cion/.aga  IVdn>  d' Alcantara  I,oyola  de  liragan/.a  I>our- 
bon  Saxe  Coburg  Gotha,  Du'iue  de  Coimbra,  is  dead. 
He  departe<l  this  life  Se])tember  sOth  ;it  the  age  (jf  forty- 
two,  having  been  born  November  4,  1S47.  His  father 
was  Prince  I'erdinand  of  Saxe-Coburg,  one  of  those 
German  princes  who  have  succeeded  in  marrying  into 
roy.'d  families,  I  sup])ose,  on  accoinit  of  their  political 
neutrality       I'crdinand,  or  Dom    J'Vrnando,   as  he  be- 


[JliATll  (>V  boM   AICjUSTO.  57 

canic  in  Portugal,  was  a  cousin  of  Albert,  the  Prince 
Consort,  and  he  i)osscssc(l  tlic  admirable  ([ualitics  which 
made  the  prince  so  IkIovccI  in  lvn;^land.  The  mother 
ofDoni  Augusto  was  Oueen  Maria  II.,  known  as  Maria 
(jloria,  who  was  the  daughter  of  Pedro  IV.,  the  first 
Kmperor  of  P>ra/.il,  and  who,  as  of  the  Pragan/.a  line, 
the  emancipators  of  Portugal  from  the  rule  of  vSpain  in 
1640,  received  the  crown  from  her  father  in  1S26,  mar- 
ried the  Prince  of  Peuchtenberg  in  1X35,  was  a  widow 
in  two  months,  and  in  iS;/.  marriid  I  )om  I'lvnando,  and 
died  in  i.s.s.^.  leaving  fix-e  sons,  o|  whom  l)om  Augnsto 
was  OIK',  'riiese  sons  weir  I  )(ini  Pedro  \'.,  l)omJohn, 
I  )om  iMMiiiniio,  Doin  AnjMi'-t«>,  and  I  >om  l<nis.  ( )n  the 
de:illi  ol  the  (Juein  in  i.s,v\  the  King  Consort.  1  )om 
I'eniaiido,  lacame  ri'gcnt  and  remained  in  power  until 
1.S55,  when  Dom  Pedro  \'.  came  to  the  throne.  He 
married  in  1S59  "  M.idame  Ilensler  Condessa  d'h/lla." 
He  die<l  in  1SS3. 

The  ]!ragan/.a  family,  from  the  time  of  John  IV.,  in 
)(i\'>,  name<l  "the  Restorer,"  has  had  a  most  varied 
career.  A  hundred  years  before  John  I\'.  liberated 
Portugal  .she  had  attained  the  height  of  her  glory  and 
greatness  and  ruled  the  great  colonies  and  the  com- 
merce of  the  world.  In  the  year  that  followed  .she  had 
.seen  her  army,  composed  of  sixteen  thousand  men,  iji- 
cluding  the  flower  of  the  Portuguese  aristocracy,  utterly 
destroyed  in  Africa,  and  her  King,  vSebastian,  the  com- 
mander, wiped  out  of  sight  forever.  Pliilip  II.  of  Spain 
had  succeeded  in  seizing  herthione.  She  had  enthnvd 
the  Ca.stilian  usurpation,  a  captivity  of  sixty  years. 
She  had  lost  her  empire  in  Asia  .and  nearly  the  whole 
of  Pra/.il,  and  in  a  single  centni>  had  performed  the 
great  tragedy  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.      When 


58  A  VLAK  IN  PORTUGAL. 

John  IV.  of  Iira,i;an/:i  fought  his  way  into  power  his 
country   was  prostrate.      He   ])rocccdccl  to  defeat  the 
Si>aniards  at  home,  and  tlie  Dutch  in  the  ishinds  in  the 
Atlantic,  Angoki,  Maranhani,  and  Pernanibuco.     His 
S(jJi,  Affonso  VI.,  <lrove  the  Dutch  from  IJra/.il,  was  de- 
clared insane,  and  banished  tf)  tlie  ishmd  of  Terceira, 
where  he  reiiiaiiicd  six  years  ;  was  afterwards  confiiied 
in  tlic  paL'K  <■  at  t'iiitra,  whi  re  he  died  at  the  early  a^.'e 
of  folly.      .Mi-.iiiwliile  roilii^'.al  h.id  li'.eii,  and  Joliii  \'.. 
known  as  th<'   M;i;;naniiiious,  built  Mafra,  (•((iistnu  led 
y.real  .MitiediK  t>,  speiil  tile  eimrinotis  weidth  \\lii(  h  h.nl 
llowed  ill  Iroiii  th<;  colonies,  died,  and  Kit   the  lieasniy 
eiiipt\.     An  e:irtli(|iiake  deslroyid  in  this  ])eriofl  a  j^reat 
p.'iit  of  Ki^b()n,  and  added  a  gha.slK'  horror  to  the  tragic 
era.     The  f)ueen,  Maria  I.,  became  insane,  and  Napo- 
leon declared  the   House  of  IJragan/.a   had  ceased   to 
exist.     Ihit  tlie  strange  career  did  not  end  here.     In 
1807  the  armies  of  I'rance,  muler  Junot,'  iiuaded  Portu- 
gal, .and  Ihe  I'ragan/.as,  the  royal  family,  sought  refuge 
in  I'.ra/il,  while  the  ICnglish,  led  by  Sir  Arthur  Welles- 
ley,  laid  the  great  milil.iry  lines  of  Torres  \'edras  and 
dro\'e   the   I'Ven'h    from   the    Iberian    Peninsula.       The 
insane  queen  dic<l  in  Rio;  her  son,  John  \' I.,  succeeded 
to  the  tliionc  ,ind   lelurned  to  Lisbon,  having  surren- 
dered Pia/.il  lo  his  son  Dom  Pedjo  in  iS,'n.      And  then 
a   family  fight  eomni'nctd.      Dom    Migui'l,  the  King's 
.second    son,   rai-ed    a    re\dll    :i;'ainst    the   constitution 
wliii  !)  Ii;id  1>een  pioebiinnd  .uid  a' .  epied  by  the  King; 
!iiid  !i''  loiiliiiu' d  liii  waif;!!''   foi    nioir  lliali  ten   yeaiS, 
M<    lon;'ll!    |ii>    I.iIIp  I     Ulllll    lie    wa  >  biini^lled  to  V'ieuim 
ill  i.'^.'i  ;   ,s,iw    llie    Paa/il'i  aef. nowled;.Md    indepeiideul  ; 
learned   the  tieath   o|   his  father   in  i«.-'6;  and  saw  his 
brothel-,  Pedro  1\'.,  elevated  to  the  thr(»ne,  signing  the 


TflE  BRAGANZA  FAMILY-  59 

constitutional  charter,  abdicating  in  favor  of  his  daugh- 
ter, Dona  Maria  Gloria,  on  condition  that  she  observe 
the  constitution  and  "  marry  her  uncle,  Dom  Miguel." 
This  arrangement,  however,  did  not  seem  to  work. 
This  charming  inicle,  Dom  Miguel,  managed  to  be 
proclaimed  king  and  to  secure  tlie  snjiport  of  Austria, 
I^nssia.  ;nid  all  the  opponents  of  the  liberal  cause  in 
]*,urope,  rpoM  this  iV'bo  IV.  l.nided  in  I'ortni^al  with 
an  ;iiiny  of  ;-.e\'eii  thons:iiid  five  lnin<bed  tiien,  ;uid  lo- 
gellii  I  \\  illi  the  ])iikeof  Tiiceir,!,  with  bis  e\pe(blion 
from  the  A/.ons,  and  Sir  Cliailes  Na[»ier's  performances 
on  the  hiy;h  seas,  (>rushed  J )om  Mignel  and  <bove  liim 
from  the  throne.  And  now  Maria  II.  was  i)roclaimed 
queen  in  iS,^^),  married  Dom  I'Vrnando  the  same 
year,  and  left  the  fi\e  sons  to  whom  I  have  already 
referred. 

I'nt  the  Ihagan/.a  tragedy  did  n<>t  end  here.  Doni 
Peib'o  \'.  commenced  his  reign  in  i-'^55.  His  father  had 
};iven  him  a  fine  education.  Dom  I'ernando  hiid  grace- 
ful talent  and  a  good  deal  of  aesthetic  culture,  lie  was 
a  good  nuisician,  f)nd  of  art  and  architecture,  devoted 
himself  to  the  restoration  and  adornment  of  the  old 
convent  at  I'ena,  and  was  an  elegatit  and  perhaps 
somewhat  v«»lnpt)ions  gentleman,  who  j.',a\e  ganlen 
])aities,  and  sang  swei  tly  with  his  fiiends  in  the 
gntuii'N.  Dom  iVdio  \'.,  the  son,  was  a  most  amiable 
and  accomplished  kinj.',.  The  jn-ople  were  cxlra\'a- 
ganlly  fond  ol'  him,  and  under  his  reiv-.u  l*oituj;aI 
fieemeil  t(»  be  lisiti);  illln  thecultutc  and  pi  nsperity  (»f 
Wi  II  iildi'H'd  peace, 

In  NdVcuilKr,  iKOi,  the  luyal  lamilN  \M  If  ic'.lding  (il 
the  r,i!,iii()  (|;is  Neeessida<K  s,  a  ma).;nificenl  ^lructure 
in   IJsbon,    built  by   Dom  John    \'.,    at   whose  touch 


60  A  YHAH  IN  rORTl'GAL. 

the   gT«-'^i^-    treasures   vi    I'orlu-al   incited   away.      In 
lliat  nunilh  a   slrangc  and  fatal  disease,  supposed  by 
some  to  have  been  conlraeted  in  Uie  marshes  toward 
the    north,  and  believed   by  many  to   have   l)een  the 
result  of  jKjison,  carried  ofT  the    Kinj;  and  two  of  liis 
l)rothers,  to  tlie  dismay  and  horr<»r  of  the  connnunity. 
Two  (jnly  were  left,  1  )<;m  lAiis,  tlie  present  king,  who 
was  heir  to  tlie  thn;ne,  who  arrived  in  the  Tagus  three 
days   after   the  death   u[  his  brother,  and  who  when 
informed  of  the  death  of  the  Kin;-,^  said  :     "  I  have  lost 
by  one    stroke    the    Us<)    thin;.;s  I   most   prized  in  the 
world  :  my  brother  and  my  liberty"  ;  and  Dom  An^usto, 
who  died  SepUinber  ^Olh  and  was  buried  October  ist, 
iSSi;.     ])r)iu  Luis  still  rei;j,ns,  a  scholarly,  accomjilished, 
judicious    gentleman,  brc-ken   in    health    at    fiity-one, 
unable  to  walk,  and  evidently  suffering  from  mortal  dis- 
ease.     His  death  may  be  expected  at  any  time. 

Dom  Augusto   has  dragged  f)n  a  feeble  existence, 
bn^ken'down,  as  it  is  said,  by  the  disease  which  attacked 
him  more  than  a 'luarter  of  a  century  ago.     I  met  him  at 
the  reception  given  at  the  palace  in  Cintra  on  the  birth- 
day of  Dom  Affonsothe  Prince  Royal,  and  had  a  short 
conver^atiou  with  him.     He  was  very  tall,  an<l  .stoop- 
ing.    He  bore  hinrself  like  a  feeble  man  and  walked 
with  difl'iculty,  as  he  had  done  since  his  illness.     He 
was  a   faithful  friend,  an  affectionate  brother,   and   an 
amiable   member  of  society.       I    olten    met    him    on 
the  road  in  Cintia  in  his  barou'lie,  drawn  by  four  good- 
looking  nuiles.     His  last  hours   were  su(;thed  by  the 
Condessa    d'Jvlla  in   the  P;dac:(»  <las  Nece^sidades,   to 
whi'h  he  was  carried  but  a  few  days  before  his  death. 
His  funeral  was  a  rortugucse   i)a:.;eant.      A  long  line 
of  very  ordinary  hackn.ey  coupes  in  which  were  a  few 


FUNERAL  OF  DOM  AUGUSTO  6l 

private  carriages  scattered  and  containing  anny  and 
navy  and  civil  ofTicials,  led  the  procession.  These 
were  followed  by  the  hearse,  a  huge  structure  entirely 
covered  by  a  heavy  black  cloth  and  drawn  by  six 
horses,  also  clothed  in  black,  from  their  ears  to  their 
heels.  Then  came  a  succession  of  heavy,  elaborate, 
huge,  gilded,  deeply  can'ed,  richly  upholstered,  mas- 
sively adorned  carriages  of  state,  some  one  hundred, 
some  three  hundred  years  old,  remarkable  for  the  great 
ornamental  excrescences,  which  were  ])iled  on  the  two 
ends  of  the  carriage  while  the  body  of  the  vehicle 
swung  on  huge  thorough-))races,  mounted  with  heavy 
gold  buckles.  The  gold-mounted  liarnesses  almost 
obscured  the  horses  that  wore  them.  The  j)rocession 
woiuid  its  way  through  the  narrow  streets  of  the 
hilly  town  to  the  Church  of  ,St.  \'incent,  the  ])atron 
saint  of  I^isbon,  and  which  is  the  last  resting-iilace 
of  the  dynasty  of  Hragan/a.  I'or  the  fust  time  I  saw 
a  royal  funeral  with  the  ceremony  of  the  church.  I 
found  a  seat  provided  for  me  in  the  diplomatic  tribune, 
a  high  raised  and  draped  enclosure,  where  sat  the 
diplomatic  corj)S  in  uniform  (jf  various  grades  and  every 
degree  of  glitter.  I  sat  at  one  end  of  the  front  seat,  while 
the  Pojje's  Nuncio,  Monsigneur  \'ainuitelli,  a  most  de- 
lightful person,  who  gives  you  a  warm  greeting  with  his 
sensible  face  and  his  good  grip,  satat  the  other  end — he 
in  his  robes,  I  in  my  repui)lican  dress-coat  an<l  white 
cravat.  The  scene  I  looked  down  u])<)n  w.is  most 
striking.  I  was  near  one  corner  of  the  chancel  an«l 
could  see  the  whole  church.  The  huge  cofiin  was 
borne  into  the  chancel  and  ])laced  on  an  elevated  dais. 
.Ml  about  the  church  sat  fr.iternities  in  every  v;uiet\'  of 
costume — long    gray    surplices,   ornamental    uniforms. 


62  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

solemn  sashes,  fine  irimniings.  In  an  enclosure  in 
front  of  us  was  a  group  of  decorated  senators.  Below 
them  a  body  of  generals  of  the  army — a  good-looking 
manly  lx>dy  of  peaceful  warriors.  Inside  the  chancel 
were  the  ministers  of  .state  in  l)rilliant  array,  and  at  the 
altar  the  archbishop  and  bishop  with  a  mysterious 
body  of  attendants,  which  resembled  on  a  very  large 
.scale  the  group  I  have  often  admired. 

'i'he  ceremony  was  long  and  very  impressive,  and 
was  thoroughly  appreciated  by  the  congregation.  On 
the  cofTin  re>t.ed  the  sword  and  cap  of  the  deceased — 
for  he  was  a  captain  (jf  artillery,  whose  duty  in  times  of 
peace  was  to  atteml  with  his  troops  on  funerals  and 
royal  processions. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CINTRA.-PORTUGUFISI:    IinROES— DEATH    AND 
F-UNI:IML  Ol-   THE   KING. 

October  isth. — I  have  just  had  a  visit  from  the  Mar- 
quis of  Ailsa,  whoso  home  is  on  the  Clyde,  and  whose 
large  hmded  estate  of  nearly  Sc\(xx)  acres  iu  Scotland 
resembles  somewhat  the  great  tract  of  picturesque 
territ(.rv  which  constitutes  the  j^asture  lands  of  ICssck 
Couuly.  The  Manjuis  came  to  Tishon  in  his  yacht 
'rHania,  on  his  aimual  cruise  in  the  Mediterranean  aiul 
Si)anish  waters,  and  brought  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
me  from  vSir  George  Bonham,  the  Secretary  of  the  I**ng- 
lish  Legation,  who  is  now  in  Lisbon.  Ailsa  presented 
his  letter  of  introduction,  which  I  should  always  recog- 
nize, and  with  his  own  (piiet  and  self  possessed  ways, 
won  his  way  at  once  into  my  hospitality.  I  made  with 
liim  excursions  to  all  the  remarkable  and  attractive 
spots  ill  Cintra.  We  explored  the  I'alacio  da  Pena 
carefully  ;  crept  through  the  Cork  Convent  i)atiently  ; 
made  vSji-  I'lancis  Cook  a  long  morning  call,  at  which 
we  were  treated  with  great  hospitality  and  kindness, 
while  we  admired  his  graceful  palace  at  Montserrate 
and  his  luxuriant  garden,  and  grew  enthusiastic  over 
the  great  natural  beauties  of  Cintra. 

When  the  >Larquis  left  Cintra  I  escorted  him  into 
IJsbon  and  dined  with  him  on  board  the  Tilania, 
a  beautiful  steam  yacht  of  three   hundred  tons,  with 

f«3 


64  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

most  graceful  lines,  and  an  ckgant  outfit  for  a  com- 
fortable and  gentlemanly  cruise.  She  lay  in  the  wide 
harlxjr  of  Lisbon,  where  the  Tagus  spreads  out  into  a 
great  bay,  and  all  around  her  was  gathered  a  fleet  of 
merchantmen  of  every  nationality,  with  here  and  there 
a  man-of-war,  while  tlie  lights  of  Lisbon  and  of  the 
little  villages  along  the  curving  shore  were  reflected  in 
the  smooth  water,  and  a  great  full  moon,  "  round  as  my 
shield,"  shed  a  j>ale  and  thoughtful  light  over  the 
whole  scene.  The  Cire;it  I'ear  lay  low  ir.  the  hori/.on, 
and  the  North  vStar  looked  down  from  his  eternal  and 
unchanging  throne  to  remind  me  of  tl  at  spot  from 
which  I  have  so  oflc-n  sur\-e_\ed  it  and  f(.lt  that  it  was 
a  conslant  friend.  The  scene  was  dream  like,  and  as  I 
was  n)wed  ashore  io  lake  the  train  for  Cinlra  I  .seemed 
lo  be  IransporUtl  to  a  land  filieil  with  heroic  memories, 
great  aspirations,  valiant  deeds,  and  romantic  thoughts, 
over  whicli  was  spread  the  hush  and  mystery  of  the 
recorded  past.  I  forgot  tlie  material  pleasures  of  the 
yacht,  the  Scotch  hospitality  and  cheer,  so  in  contrast 
with  my  daily  experience  in  this  land  of  dietetic  expe- 
dients, and  wandered  tlirough  the  ghostly  streets  of 
Lisl)on  in  the  moonlight,  to  return  to  the  rich  verdure 
and  sok-nui  crags  of  Cintra.  My  way  lay  along  the 
quay,  which  stretch.es  by  the  river-bank  for  miles,  and 
is  busy  from  sunrise  to  smiset  with  gallegos  bearing 
heavy  burdens  of  coal  and  wood,  and  oxen  moving  the 
great  wains,  and  l)arefoot  women  carrying  broad  bas- 
kets of  fish  and  vegetables  on  their  heads,  and  sailors 
unloading  their  lateen  vessels  of  the  huge,  widesjirend 
cargoes  of  straw,  and  great  freight  of  fagots  for  burn- 
ing, and  long  lumber  from  Norway,  and  Belgian  Ijlocks 
.split  out  from  the  ledges  high  up  the  river.      It  was  all 


Vasco  de  gama.  6s 

still  and  weird  and.  moonlit  now.  I  was  making  my 
way  out  of  Lisbon  alon^  that  path  which  led  north- 
ward into  the  historic  portion  of  tlic  kingdom  in  which 
had  been  enacted  nearly  all  the  deeds  which  made 
Portugal  great  and  all  the  tragedies  which  made  her 
mournful.  From  Lisbon  to  Braga  on  the  north,  all 
along  the  Atlantic  coast,  the  Portuguese  character  dis- 
played itself  for  centuries.  Here  were  the  great  sieges, 
here  the  ])loody  battles,  here  the  warring  factions,  here 
the  fleets  of  discovery  were  fitted  out,  here  the  armies 
for  foreign  conquest  were  organized,  here  the  wealth  of 
foreign  commerce  was  gathered,  and  here  the  vast 
treasure  poured  into  the  kingdom  by  great  merchants 
and  brave  captains  was  wasted  by  weak  and  extrava- 
gant monarchs. 

The  landmarks  are  all  im])ressive.  IJelem,  the 
great  tower,  erected  originally  as  a  defence  against 
pirates,  which  has  stood  for  nearly  four  centuries, 
armed  with  ancient  cannon,  a  picturesque  structure 
which  first  welcomes  all  who  enter  the  Tagus,  and  fills 
them  with  admiration  of  its  towers  and  Gi)thic  arches, 
reminds  you  tliat  on  this  spot  Vasco  de  Gama  first  .set 
foot  on  his  return  from  the  discovery  of  a  new  empire. 
From  the  rocky  peaks  of  Cintra  the  King  had  witnes.sed 
the  approach  of  his  triumphant  little  fleet  as  it  entered 
the  mouth  of  the  river  and  cast  anchor  off  the  shore 
of  Belem.  The  story  it  told  was  fabulous.  The  circuit 
of  the  Cape  had  been  accomplished,  the  ])rosperous 
regions  of  Africa  had  been  ex]>lore(l,  the  Indian  Ocean 
had  been  navigated,  the  secret  designs  of  hostile  tribes 
had  been  circumvented,  the  treasures  of  the  Ivast  had 
been  discovered,  and  were  poured  into  the  treasury  of 
Portugal  until  she  became  the  most  powerful  empire  in 


66  A  YllAR  IN  I'ORTUGAL. 

the  world  and  Lisbon  the  richest  and  busiest  emporium 
in  ICurope.     Hardly  had  the  Western  Continent  been 
discovered  when  the  gorgeous  civilization  of  the  East 
was  reached  by  the  bold  Portuguese  navigator.     I?orn  in 
a  small  seajxjrt  town  on  tlie  coast  of  the  Aigarves,  he  had 
become  so  familiar  with  the  sea  and  so  brave  and  hardy 
under  its  influence  that  before  he  was  thirty  years  old 
he  had  accomplished  his  great  work,  and  dying  at  fifly- 
five,  he  had  discovered  and  subdued  great  colonies  in 
the  Kast,  had  been  appointed  Viceroy  of  India,  and  had 
suffered  from  neglect  at  the  hands  of  those  he  had  en- 
riched.    His  remains  were  brought  from  India  where  he 
died  to  Lisbon,  and  with  the  most  solemn  and  imposing 
ceremonies  were  deposited  in  the  Carmelite  Church  at 
Vidigueira,  where  they  now  rei)ose  in  a    magnificent 
mausoleum   erected    to   the   memory   (»f  the    renowned 
Discoverer   of  the    Indies.      In    menuyry    of  his   great 
achievements  and  t(»  mark  the  s])ot  where  he  an<l  his 
cotiipaiiioiis  spent   liie   night  b(.iore  their  dfj);irtiiie   in 
prayer  to  G'ld   for  his  blessing  on  their  luidertaking, 
and  in  gratitude  for  the  success  of  the  voyage,  King 
Manuel  founded  a  church,   dedicated  to  St.    Mary,  to 
the  erection  of  which    he  devoted  the   first  gold  that 
came  from  India.     All  Ih.'it  art  and  architecture  could 
do  was  done  to  give  beauty  and  grandeur  to  the  build- 
ing.    From  the  portico,  which  is  ])rofusely  ornamented 
with  statues,  to  the  high-vaulted  roof  with  its  wdiite 
marble  pillars  and  its  imposing  cupolas,  the  .symmetiy 
is  perfect.     And  the  cloisters  are  not  surpassed  by  any 
in  luirope.     As  a  monument  to  the  great  discoverer  it 
is  most  interesting,  and  as  a  token  of  gratitude  to  God, 
who  had  given  the  King  so  great  a  subject,  it  represents 
the  piety  and  ambition  which  characterized  that  age  of 


JOHN  Dt  CASTRO.  67 

ecclesiastical  fervor  and  imperial  power.  And  you 
have  only  to  go  on  to  Cintra,  along  the  path  \vc  are 
now  travelling,  to  look  with  admiration  on  the  convent 
which  the  King  also  erected  on  one  of  the  highest 
peaks,  to  mark  the  spot  where  he  watched  for  the 
coming  of  the  fleet  which  brought  him  his  wealth  and 
power.  Vasco  de  Gama  was  one  of  the  men  who  made 
Portugal  great. 

But  a  little  farther  on  the  way  stands  the  Church  of 
IJcmfica,  where  repose  the  hones  of  John  de  Castro,  the 
liero  of  a  hundred  battles,  the  \'iceroy  of  India,  who 
was  born  A.i).    1500,  the  year    after  Vasco  de   Gama 
returned  from  his  great  voyage,  and  died  at  the  early 
age  of  forty-eight,  twenty-four  years  after  the  discoverer 
of  India  had  gone  to  his  rest.     Bemfica  is  a1)<)ut  two 
mik'S  from  Lisbon,  and  stands  a  hamk-t  on  a  hillside, 
remarkable  for  its  spkn<lid  a([ue(hu-t  arehes  more  than 
250    feet  hi^h,   an<l   its  windmills,    its   orange    groves, 
};ardens,  and  orelianls.     In  the  mi<lst  of  a  most  verdant 
si)ot  stands   the  church,  containing  the  chapel  of  the 
Castros.     The  church   is    by    no    means   an    imposing 
building.     It  is  simple  and  unpretentious  externally  ; 
but   the    interior   is  a    fit    resting-place   for   the   great 
hero.     It  is  one  of  the  three  buildings  with  which  the 
name  of  John  de  Castro  is  intimately  connected,  and 
represents  the    different   i)hases   of  his  extraordinary 
character.     After     an    early    career    of    heroism,    he 
sought   rei)ose   in  Pena  \'erde  at  Cintra,   where,  with 
agriculture  and  literature,  he   passed  a  few  years  of 
leisure  and  culture  before  .setting  forth  on  his  great  ex- 
peditions.     Here  he  practised  the  most  rigid  economy, — 
living  in  the  humblest  apartment,  refusing    all    com- 
pensation for  his  .services,  asking  only  as  a  reward  that 


08  A  yy.AU  IN  r(;RTI]f}AL. 

a  rock,  oil  which  stood  six  trees,  slioiild  he  annexed  to 
the  esl.'ite.  Here  lie  exercised  that  extnujrdiiuiry  con- 
tciii])!  of  wealtli,  wliich  he  disphiyed  in  life,  and  of 
wliich  he  boasted  in  tlie  liour  of  his  death,  by  befiueatli- 
ins;  this  property  to  liis  descendants,  witli  the  express 
C(;ndilion  of  their  not  deriving  pecuniary  advantages 
from  its  cultivation,  saying,  that  even  from  the  eartli 
he  would  accept  no  reward  ft^r  his  labors.  He  con- 
demned this  favorite  abode  to  leasehold,  and  Sir  I-'rancis 
Cook  now  has  it  on  a  lease  of  ninety  years.  I)e  Castro 
.seemed  to  be  more  j)r<nid  of  his  poverty  than  of  his 
achievements,  and  he  provided  in  liis  will  that  his  .son 
should  siHud  wliate\er  recompense  he  received  fioiu 
the  governniciii  in  the  erection  of  a  convent  for  the 
I'Van'ciscan  reformed,  friars  (the  Recollets).  Out  of 
this  came  the  ecclesia.stical  burrow,  known  now  as 
Cork  Convent,  abandoned  even  by  the  })oor.  for  whom 
an  impecunious  man  built  it;  but  pos.ses.sing  still,  by 
sj)ecial  papal  favor,  the  high  privileges  of  the  Church 
which  made  it  attractive.  This  C(jnvent  and  Peiia 
Verde  remain,  in  memory  u{  the  great  viceroy — one  liis 
abode,  and  the  other  the  fruit  of  his  pif)us  devotion. 
The  modest  church,  not  far  away,  holds  his  bones,  and, 
as  a  mark  of  respect,  was  spared  when  the  convents  of 
the  kingdcjin  were  .se(iuestered. 

It  is  not  easy  in  our  day  to  comprehend  a  character 
like  John  de  Castro.  Possessed  of  powers  which  made 
him  a  great  warrior  and  ruler,  with  the  comprehension 
and  capacity  of  an  accomplished  nuin  of  afTairs,  familiar 
with  the  luxury  and  state  of  kings  at  a  time  when 
royalty  was  the  goal  which  the  ambitious  .sought  as 
the  height  of  human  hap])iness  and  success,  he  was 
obedient  to  tluit  .spirit  of  j)iety  and  self-sacrifice  which 


.lOilN  Dl!  CASTRO.  69 

bcloniL^cd  to  Ihc  devotees  of  llie  Cliureli,  and  which 
made  starvation  and  stripes  the  fountains  of  ecstasy  and 
joy. 

He  Seems  to  liave  been  indifferent  to  the  refmcmctJls 
of  life,  and  superior  to  all  its  comforts  and  luxuries. 
The  service  of  an  acolyte  was  as  dear  to  hiin  as  the 
accomplishments  of  a  conqueror  and  ruler.  lie  did  not 
fight  for  the  Church  ;  he  entered  upon  no  crusade.  The 
service  of  the  Lord  gave  no  strength  to  his  right  arm. 
He  fought  for  empire  and  power.  And  when  he 
sheathed  his  sword,  he  left  the  1  tattle-field  and  con- 
(piests  behind  him,  and  retired  to  his  s.anctuary  and 
penance.  We  have  known  many  Christian  warriors 
who  fi)ught  fin-  their  fi\ith  ;  hut  he  was  not  one.  He 
fijught  like  a  warrior,  and  he  prayed  like  a  parson  ;  but 
he  never  mingled  the  two  characters  together,  nor  did 
he  call  in  either  in  aid  of  the  other.  He  was  not  a 
refi)rmer,  or  an  independent  ;  he  w;is  a  fiiithful  sub- 
ject, and  a  firm  believer.  And  he  was  another  of  the 
great  men  of  Portugal  who  l)uilded  his  house  upon  the 
sand.     He  died  and  left  no  idea  behind. 

The  best  .sketch  of  John  dc  Castro  is  given  in  a  quaint 
volume,  written  in  1664  by  i'Veirede  Andrade.  andtrans- 
latc'l  into  ICnglish  by  vSt.  Peter  \V\cke,  Kt.,  whose 
account  is  graphic,  and  whose  style  is  admirably 
adapted  to  his  subject.     He  says  : 

"  Doiii  John  de  Castro,  as  illustrious  fi)r  his  fiunily 
as  virtues,  was  born  in  I^i.sbon  the  27th  of  Fel.>ruary  of 
the  year  one  thousand  five  hundred  :  He  was  .'Second 
son  to  I)om  Avaro  de  Castro,  Governour  of  the  House 
of  Civil,  and  to  Dona  Lconorde  Noronha,  the  daughter 
of  Dom  John  de  Almeyda,  .second  Ivarl  of  Abrantes; 
Grandchild  to  J)om  Garcia  de  Castro,  who  was  brother 


70  A  YI:AI<'  in  I'OlM-lKiAL. 

to  Doiii  Alvaro  de  Castro,  the  first  Karl  of  Monsanto  ; 
these    two   were   sons   to   Doni    Fernando   de  Castro, 
grandchildren    to    Doni    Pedro  de  Castro,    and   j;reat- 
Krandcluldren  to  Doni  Alvaro  IMnz  de  Castro,  ICarl  of 
Arrogolos,  the  first  Constable  of  Tortngal,  brother  to 
the  (jueen  Dona  Inez,  de  Castro,  wife  to  Doni  Pedro  the 
Crnel.  This  Constable  was  son  to  Doni  Pedro  rernandej'. 
de  Castro,  called    (in  Castile)  the  man  of  Warr,   who 
eoininj.;;  into  this  kin;.;doine  bc7;.-in  here  the   Illustrions 
house  of  the  Cnslros,  which  halh  ])res<jrvc(l  itself  in  so 
nincli    greatness  ;     Doni    Pedro    by  the    male   line,  de- 
scended fn^ni  the  Infante  Doni  h'ernando,  son  to  King 
Doni    (Garcia   i)f  Navarre,  who    marricl    D(»na    Maria 
Alvate/,   de    C.'istro,    the   only    dau^'.hler   of   the    Ivarl 
Alvaro  l''anhe/.  Minay.'i,  tlw  fillli  ^;randchild  in  der.ceiit 
from   Lain  Calvo,   from    whom  this  fimily  derives  its 
lK%^innin;^,     Dom    John  de  Castro,  when  very  yonnj^, 
niarry'd   Dona  I^eonor  Continho,  her  Consin  Oerm;in 
once  remove<l,   gn.-ater  f(jr  her  finality   than   portion, 
with  whom  retiring  to  the  Town  of  Almada,  he  b\-  an 
antedated  old  age  avoided  the  ambition  of  the  Court : 
lie  went  to  serve  at  Tangier,  \vhere  he  gave  the  first, 
but  extraordinary  proofs  of  liis  courage,  though  of  his 
actions   there  we  have  more  from  his  fame  than  our 
knowledge.       He    returned  to    Court  recalled    by    the 
King  Dom   John  the  third,   ami  the    Kingdom  being 
too  narrow  for  his  Oallantry  went  to  India  with  Dom 
Garcia  de  Noronha  :     He  acc(;mpany'd  Dom  Ivstevan 
de  Gania  in   his  ex])edition  to  the  month  of  the   Red 
Sea,  and  made  a  journal  fjf  his  voyage,  a  usefull,  and 
acct'ptable  work  to  Sea-men,    On  his  return  to  Portugal 
he    retir'd  to  his    country-house  at  Sintra,   recreating 
himself  by  Kea<liiig,  in  his  s<ditudes  and  eni])loyments 


JOHN  Ul;  CASTRO.  71 

always  Exemplar>' :  He  put  on  his  sword  again  to 
folU)w  the  eagles  of  Charles  the  ICinperor  in  the  Battail 
of  Tunis,  where  he  raised  his  name  with  new  Glory ; 
when  this  design  was  over,  hiding  himself  from  his 
own  fame,  he  again  retired  to  Sinlra,  knowing  how  to 
avoid,  not  keep  himself  from  employments. 

"  Dom  John  made  him  Admiral  of  the  Navy  of  the 
Coast,  a  serviee  where  his  Courage  was  answered  hy 
.Success.     I  le  went  last  of  all  to  govern  India,  where  by 
the  victories  we  have  related,  he  .si-cured  and  ])rought 
into  reputation  the  State.     When  the  designs  of  Warr 
spared  him,  he  in  a  large  Card  dcscrih'd  all  the  Coast 
hetwixt  (»oa  and  Dio  marking  the  I'lals  and  vShclves, 
thelleij^^litofthc  I'ole  in  which  llu'  Citicslye  :  Ihe  depth 
of  water,  Aiulioring,  and  Creeks  which  form  the  Ha- 
vens;  the  'J'radc-winds,  and  Nature  of  those  seas,  the 
force  of  the  Currents,  the  swiftness  of  Rivers,  disposing 
the  lines  in  different  Tables,  all  with  so  minute  and  ac- 
curate Geograi)hy  as  only  this  work  might. seem  to  make 
him  famous,  if  he  were  not  so  eminently  for  his  great 
Fortitude.    Helook'tthesamein  his  straights  at  Home, 
and  prosperity  in  the  ICast,  appearing  always  the  same 
man  in  diverse  fortunes  :  his  ambition  was  to  deserve  all 
Things,  and  ask  nothing.     He  c<iually  did  reason  and 
justice  to  all  men,  iud)yast  in  his  punishments,  but  so 
jiistifiable,  that  the  Coniplainls  were  more  against  the 
Law  than  Minislur.      He  was  free  to  his  souldiers,  spar- 
ing to  his  Children,  slewing  more  civility  in  his  office, 
than  nature.      He  us'd  with  a  great  deal  of  Ceremony 
the  actions  of  his  i)redecessors,  honoring  even  those  he 
])Ut  not  in  practice;  without  ])rostituting  his  Civility, 
he  ])reser\'ed  his  Kes]X(  I.      I  le  ai)peared  above  the  great 
ones,  and  I'ather  of  the  meanest :  .such  was  his  life,  an 


72  A  VI:aK  in  rr^RTUGAL. 

by  that,  more  tliriii  In-  punislimenLs.  lie  reformM  ex- 
travaj^ancies  :  liis  first  zeal  was  always  in  God's 
cause,  llicn  in  the  state's  ;  lie  past  no  virtue  without 
rewaril,  some  vices  without  punishment :  amendin;^  not 
a  few.  some  hy  f  ivors,  others  hy  Clemency.  The  pres- 
ents he  received  from  tlie  Princes  of  Asia  he  put  to  the 
King's  revenue,  a  \'irlue  rdl  ])r.-us'd,  few  imitated  :  the 
ni:iiiu'd  souldiers  found  liim  Sollieitous  in  tlieir  cure  and 
Com])asMionate  of  tlicir  condition  :  lie  (;l)li:^ed  every 
one,  yet  seemed  obnoxious  to  all  :  lie  kept  the  soul- 
diers (as  what  would  jjrove  the  Ruine  of  tlie  Stale;  from 
nierchandi/.inj;  :  ]Ie  set  upon  no  action,  whicli  he  did 
notatchie\e,  being  re:idy  in  I-'xecution,  malure  in  Coun- 
cil ;  amidst  the  employments  (;f  a  Souldier,  he  ])reserved 
the  virtues  of  a  Religious  man,  was  frequent  in  visiting 
Temples,  a  great  honoUrerof  Churdi-men,  mercifull  and 
liberal  to  the  Poor  ;  had  great  devotion  to  the  Cross  of 
Christ,  whicli  he  re\erenced  in  its  I'igure,  l^y  a  low  in- 
clination witliout  any  difference  of  time  or  place;  and 
so  Religiously  was  lie  fir'd  with  the  Worship  of  this  most 
holy  representative,  as  he  rather  chose  to  build  a  temi)!e 
to  its  menior\'  tlian  raise  a  House  to  his  Posterity,  leav- 
ing it  in  his  P'alherly  blessing  to  his  vSon  I)om  Alvaro, 
that  if  he  found  in  the  f  ivour  or  justiceof  the  King,  any 
recompense  for  his  services,  he  should  with  that  build 
.1  c'juvent  for  the  I'ranciscan  Recollets  in  the  Momitains 
of  vSintra,  and  name  the  House  The  Inv<K:ation  of  the 
Holy  Cross  [iiow  Cork  Convent  in  Cinlra],  ])om 
Alvaro  de  Ca-lro,  Heir  a])p.irent  to  the  virtues  of  so 
pious  a  Tatlier,  gave  order  fo^  building  the  Convent, 
not  so  great  fi>r  the  Majesty  of  the  Pile,  as  for  the  vSanc- 
tity  of  the  Penitents  who  Inhal>it  there,  ]ieing  the  first 
time   sent  from  King  Dom  Sebastian  luubassador  to 


JOHN  DE  CASTRO.  73 

Pope  Pius  the  Fourth,  he  obtained  of  him  to  priviledge 
the  Altar  of  the  Convent  for  all  Masses,  and  on  the  day 
of  the  Invention  of  the  Cross,  Plenary  indulgence  to  all 
those  \vho  i)ray'd  for  the  pressing  necessities  of  the 
Church,  and  designedly  for  the  soul  of  Doni  John  de 
Castro  ;  so  singular  and  luuisnal  a  grace  as  we  have 
not  known  granted  to  sovereign  Princes.      It  is  apparent 
the  Inline  of  his  victories  was  as  lond  in  Italy  as  that  of 
his  \'irlncs,  attested  by  so  illustrious  a  testimony  from 
the  Vitar  (»f  Clirist ;  for  these  and   olher  virtues  we 
believe  he  now  enjoys  in  Heaven  nobler  Palmes  in  a 
more  eminent  Triumph.     lie  had  three  .sons  who  all 
exposed  themselves  to  the  dangers  of  Warr,  as  their 
Father's  blessing  ;  l)(Mn  Miguel  the  Youngest,  who  in 
the  Keign  of  King  Dom  vSebastian  went  to  the  Indies, 
and  Dy'd  in  the  Government  of  Malaca  ;  Dom  Fernando 
burnt  in  the  mine  at  Dio  ;  Dom  Alvaro,  with  whom  he 
seem'd  to  share  liis  Palmes  and  victories,  the  son  and 
companion  of  his  fame,  who,  returning  to  the  kingdom 
without  any  other  Riches  than  the  Wounds  he  received 
in  the  Warr.  married  Donna  Anna  de  Attayde,  Daughter 
to  Dom  Lewis  de  Castro,  Lord  of  the  House  of  Mon 
Sanlo  :  He  was  a  particular  Favourite  to  King  Dom 
Sebastian,  entrusted  by  him  in  the  greatest  affairs  aud 
places  of  the  Kingdome,  went  on  diverse  Ijnbassies  to 
Castile,  I'rance,  Rome,  &  vSa.oy  ;  was  of  the  Council 
of  vState  and  sole  vSuperintendentof  the  ICxchequer,  and 
ill  the  midst  of  so  eminent  offices,  Died  poor,  though  he 
Deceast  a  I'avourite. 

"  i;i;atii  and  jiukiat,  ov  dom  john'  dk  castro. 

"As  soon  as  the  Vice-Roy  perceived  himself  summou'd 
to  a  sharper  Conflict,  avoiding  the  imi>ortunc  diversion 


74  A  VrAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

of  Human  Cares,  he  secluded  liimself  \\\{\i  the  Father 
Saint  Francisco  Xaverius,  providing;  for  so  doublfuU  a 
voyage  to  secure  a  Pilol,  who  all  the  time  of  liis  sickness 
was  liis  Nurse,  Reconciler,  and  Governour.  As  he  had 
got  no  riches  to  make  a  new  Disposal  of.  he  made  no  other 
will  than  that  he  left  (at  his  coming  to  govern  India)  in 
the  Kingdome,  in  the  hands  of  Dom  Rodrigo  Pinheiro 
Bishop  of  Angra,  to  whom  he  had  comnuniicated  it ; 
and  receiving  the  .Sacraments  of  the  Church  he  gave  up 
his  soul  to  God  the  sixth  of  June  One  Thousand  five 
hundred  forty-eight,  in  the  eight  and  fortieth  Year  of  his 
age,  and  almost  three  of  his  Govenunent  of  that  State. 
The  riches  he  gained  in  Asia  were  his  lleroick  actions 
which  Posterity  will  read  in  this  book  with  tender 
memory.  In  his  study  were  found  three  pieces  of  small 
money,  and  a  Discipline  which  seem'd  to  ha\e  been 
often  us'd,  and  the  locks  of  his  beard  he  had  pawned: 
He  ordered  his  body  should  be  Deposited  in  vSaint 
PVancis  Church  in  Goa,  thence  to  be  Translated  to  his 
chapel  at  Cintra  :  They  inunediately  consulted  on  his 
funeral,  which  was  to  be  not  less  compassionate  than 
solemn,  deserving  the  Illustrious  and  connuou  Tears  of 
the  whole  State. 

"After  some  years  his  bc>nes  came  to  the  Kingdome, 
where  they  were  received  with  reverent  and  j^ious  ap- 
plause, as  being  the  last  benefit  his  country  received 
with  his  asli'-.s,  ;ind  on  tlie  Shoulders  of  four  of  his 
Grande  liildren  c-arry'd  to  Saint  Dominicke's  Convent  in 
Lisbone,  where  for  m.any  days  were  made  cosily  ICxe- 
quies ;  thence  they  were  Translated  the  second  time  to 
.Saint  Dominicke's  Convent  at  Pemfica,  where  (though 
in  another's  Chapel)  they  remained  some  years  in  a  de- 
cent Depository- ,  till  hisCjrandchild  I'ranciscode  Castro, 


JOHN  nn  CASTRO.  75 

Bishop  aiul  Inquisitor  General  nuule  for  them  a  Chapel 
and  place  of  lUirial  ;  for  Desi-n,  Matter,  and  Adonnnent, 
but  to  the  King's  monuments,  not  second  to  any  ;  the 
relation  of  it  will  not  perhaps  seem  tedious  out  o'f  re- 
spect to  the  memory  of  the  Grand-father  and  piety  of  the 
Grand-child." 

Their  bones  are  all  tliat  remain  of  these  great  men. 
•  The  seas  they  explored  have  become  highways  for  every 
trader  ;  the  kingdom  they  enlarged  has  dwindled  away 
to  a  mere  shadow  of  the  greatness  they  gave  it.  What 
they  thought  is  forgotten,  if  it  was  ever  known.  They 
fdl  a  most  attractive  page  in  history.  Thev  belong  to 
the  romance  of  the  world.  If  they  had  only  kft  a  civil 
organization  in  which  conventions,  and  caucuses,  and 
legislatures,  and  presidential  campaigns,  and  civil- 
ser^•ice  reforms,  and  free  trade,  and  interstate  commerce 
formed  a  pnrt,  how  grateful  the  modern  nations  might 
be  to  them  ;— anything  besides  a  mere  bone— some 
solution  of  home-rule  for  l-ngland— some  way  of  dis- 
posing of  political  aspirants  besides  banishment  for 
France— some  .security  for  the  l)allot-l)ox  to  all  who 
have  a  right  to  its  blessings— some  record  of  a  con- 
stitutional  convention— some  J/c7jfo:,rr~somc  Ply- 
mouth  colony.  I5ut  now  it  is  merely  idle  to  tell  us 
that  heroic  (pialities  can  be  remembered  for  tlieir  devo- 
tion to  the  age  in  which  tJKy  live  and  labor,  and  can 
build  a  monument  to  themselves  even  on  Hecting  founda- 
tions—a monument  which  all  the  generations  (.f  men 
will  admire. 

Perhaps  wc  think  more  of  Washington  and  Grant 
than  we  do  of  John  de  Castro— more  of  Farragut  than 
we  do  of  Vasco  de  Gama.     We  have  a  perfect  right  to. 


76  A  YEAR  IN  TORTL'GAL 

October  26th. — Another  royal  death  and  another  royal 
fuiierai.  On  the  Kjth  of  October  the  King  of  Portugal, 
I/iuis  PhiH]5po  Marie  Ferdinand  Pierre  d' Alcantara 
Antoine  Michel  Rafael  Gabriel  Gon/.aga  Xavier  Fran- 
cois d'Assi^i^  Jean  Jules  Auguste  Vulfande  de  Braganza 
Bourbon,  known  a:uong  tlie  .-sovereigns  of  Kuropc  as 
Luis  I.,  the  eldest  si:r\-iving  son  of  Dona  Maria  II.  da 
Gloria,  Queen  of  Portugal,  and  Doni  Fernando,  Prince 
of  Saxe-Colrarg.  died.  Yesterday  he  was  buried.  The 
first  time  I  .saw  the  King  was  at  the  reception  given  at 
the  palace  in  Cinlra  on  tlie  birthday  of  Prince  AfTonso, 
and  the  la>t  time  I  saw  him  was  on  my  presentation  as 
American  Minister,  August  29th.  at  the  same  palace. 
On  both  occasions  his  extreme  illness  was  manifest. 
vShorlly  after  my  audience  he  left  Cintra  at  midnight, 
probably  to  avoid  observation,  and  was  carried  to 
Ca.scaes,  where  he  died.  He  was  a  sailor  by  educa- 
tion and  experience,  and  a  soldier — as  all  nionarchs  in 
]-'uroi)e  necessarily  are.  lie  never  forgot  the  .sea  nor  lost 
his  love  f(;r  sea-life,  was  devoted  to  the  navy,  and  was 
an  active  memljer  of  a  yacht  club  in  Lisbon,  He  turned 
naturally  to  Cascaes  as  his  strciijj;th  failed,  and  there,  in 
view  of  th.it  beautifid  little  bay— very  like  the  bay  at 
Newi>orl— and  the  .sea  beyond,  sheltered  by  the  high 
weather-stained  l;astions  of  the  great  fortress  built  by 
Affonstj  \"I.  in  iGSi,  and  cojiverted  in  later  years  into  a 
summer  palace,  he  passed  away, 

Dom  Luis  I.  was  born  October  31,  1838  ;  and  on  Oc- 
tober 6.  1S62,  he  married  Maria  Pia,  the  youngest 
daughter  of  Victor  1-hnaiuiel,  by  whom  he  had  two 
sons:  Carlos,  1)orn  vSeptember  28.  1S63,  who  has  now- 
ascended  the  throne  ;  and  Affon.so,  born  July  31,  1865. 
His  reign  was  peaceful  and  prosperous,  and  with  his 


DEATH  AND  FUNERAL  OF  THE  KING.  77 

encouragement  Portugal  advanced  greatly  in  industry', 
education,  and  wcaltli.     He  began  to  rule  when  Portu- 
gal was  fairly  emerging  from  a  long  j)eriod  of  cotifusion 
and  revolt,  which  had  been  partially  closed  by  the  ami- 
able wisdom  of  his  father,  Dom  I'ernando,  and  the  im- 
perial force  of  his  mother  the  great  Queen  Maria  II. 
The  Braganzas  had  not  l)een  distinguished  for  quiet 
and  i)eaceful  reigns.     They  had  restored  the  power  of 
Portugal,  as  I  have  stated,   in    1640,   had  driven  out 
the    Spaniards,    had    spent   enormous   treasures,    had 
expelled  the  Jesuits,  had  fled  to  Brazil,  had  accepted  a 
charter  and  a  constitution,  had  spent  thirteen  years, 
from  1S21  to  1834,  in  a  family  fight  for  the  throne,  had 
seen  more  than  a  dozen  uprisings,  and  had  brought  the 
kingdom   through    fire   and  sword   and   capital   pun- 
ishments and  tortures  and  great  energy  to  a  st.ige  of 
exhaustion  and  to  a  constitution  as  the  last  resort  and 
a  way  to  prosperity.     When  Dom  Fernando  came  down 
from  vSaxe-Coburg  and  married  the  Queen  he  seems  to 
have  brought  witli  him  an  element  (jf  German  prudence 
and  self-possession  wliicli  cooled  tlie  ardor  and  steadied 
the  ])in  pose  of  tlie  Bragan/.a  blood.    The  Queen  reigned 
nineteen  years,  from   1S34  to   1S53.  having  accepted  a 
modified  constitution,  having  with  the  aid  of  vSpain  on 
land  and  iCngland  on  the  high  seas  subdued  a  revolu- 
tion, and  leaving  her  kingdom  to  a  judicious  prince 
con.sort,  who  knew  enough  to  resist  the  temptation  of 
tlie  S]>anish  throne  and  to  exercise  a  good  influence  at 
home.     It  was  comparatively  easy  for  the  young  King 
Dom  Luis  I.  in  186 1  to  apply  his  peculiar  faculties  to  the 
managementof  a  kingdom  which  was  beginning  toenjoy 
the  luxury  of  peace  and  was  quite  exhausted  by  intestine 
strife.    For  a  state  of  afl"airs  like  this  Dom  Luis  seems  to 


78  A  YHAR  IN  rc^RTUGAL 

have  been  peculiarly  aflapted.  He  jx^ssessed  a  coiisti- 
lulif)U  not  easily  (listtirbcd  or  driven  to  nervous  excite- 
ment, he  had  refined  and  scholarly  tastes,  he  was  fond 
of  nnisic,  and  he  had  reached  a  cajiacity  for  steady 
contemplation  by  the  subduing  influence  of  a  life  at 
sea.  lie  had  a  due  appreciation  of  the  value  of  suc- 
cessful industry,  and  the  jjcaceof  mind  and  heart  which 
goes  with  it.  He  sid)dued  the  last  insurrection  which 
threatened  his  kingdom  by  force  of  wit  and  good  .sense 
and  not  by  force  of  arms  ;  and  when  the  veteran  con- 
spirator Saldanha  threatened  a  revolt  in  case  his  de- 
mand for  a  change  of  ministry  Was  not  comi)lied  with, 
he  quietly  sul^mitted  to  the  threat,  notwith.standing,  as 
it  is  said,  a  mild  remonstrance  from  the  .spirited  and 
resolute  Queen,  and  .sent  thec(mspirator  to  represent  him 
at  the  Court  of  vSt.  James.  He  resisted  the  last  v^jjanish 
temptation,  and  rejected  the  j)roposition  of  General 
Prim  to  bring  the  entire  Iberian  ])cninsula  under  the 
Braganza  rule,  fearing,  I  doubt  not,  a  return  to  the 
storms  and  conflicts  of  the  hou^i:.  He  s.'uv  that  the 
work  of  restoring  Porlu^.il  to  :iny  dej^ree  of  her  ancient 
grandeur  was  enough  for  one  mind,  and  that  the  glory 
of  even  :i  partial  accomplishment  was  enough  for  one 
reign.  And  .^^o  he  devoted  himself  as  a  scholar  to  the 
I/iterary  Congress  at  Lisbon,  and  the  Arclueolo^ical 
CoM^'tess  ;  took  an  active  part  in  erectitig  a  .statue  to  the 
poet  Camoens,  and  in  c<kbralii!g  his  ciMit<nnial  ;  and 
as  a  bvlicvt  r  in  material  d<  \elopnunt  eiicrMiraj-ed  the 
extensi<»n  of  r;uln,>ads  .and  their  s<nind  org ani/alion  an«I 
efficient  e<pupment.  He  evidently  understood  his 
duty  as  a  constitutional  king,  and  maintained  a  scrupu- 
lous obser\-ance  of  all  the  duties  and  oblig.ations  of 
such  a  position,  realizing  that  a  king  differs  from  tliQ 


DEATH  AND  TUNnPAL  OF  TIIL"  KING.  79 

people-  over  whom  lie  rules  only  in  his  greater  oppor- 
tunity and  the  sacrcdness  of  his  responsibility. 

The  influence  of  Doni  Iaus  I.  during  his  entire  reign 
has  been  for  tlic  development  of  Portugal  and  for  her 
advanccTiient  to  the  connncrcial  power  which  her  intel- 
ligent people  now  desire.  That  the  work  he  com- 
menced will  1)c  continued  by  his  successor,  and  .son, 
there  can  be  no  (piestion.  The  dignified  and  patriotic 
manifesto  put  forth  by  Dom  Carlos  I.  on  his  elevation  to 
the  throne,  combined  with  his  expressions  of  esteem  and 
respect  for  his  father,  indicates  a  determination  to  serve 
his  cvmntry  in  acconlancc  with  the  good  example  he 
has  before  him.  At  his  first  reception  of  the  Foreign 
Ministers  at  the  Ajuda  Palace  yesterday,  I  took  occasion 
to  assure  him  of  the  deep  interest  the  government  and 
the  people  of  the  United  vStates  were  taking  in  his  reign 
just  now  begun,  and  their  readiness  to  respond  to  all 
measures  for  the  intimate  relations  of  the  two  nation- 
alities. To  this  he  resjionded  most  cordially.  He  has 
connnenced  his  career  as  niler  in  early  life;  his  queen 
has  great  e(|uabiliiy  ;iud  good  .sense  as  well  as  many 
ch.inus  ;  and  in  everything  calculated  to  maintain  the 
peace  and  jironune  the  i)rosi)erity  of  his  kingdom  I  feel 
assured  the  people  of  P(jrtgual  are  with  him. 

Dom  I,uis  duriiig  his  long  and  jiainful  illness  was 
attended  most  carefully  ;ind  tenderly  by  the  Queen, 
wlioM-  (l(\(.tiou  to  the  (lying  nion.arch  was  untiring. 
When  thr  King  had  «lrawn  his  last  bieath,  the  Queen 
rose  from  lur  knees,  an<l  embracing  her  .sou  Dom  Carlos, 
who  .slf)od  beside  her,  said  :  '  /,<•  k'oi  est  moil :  vivc 
Ic  Roi.  May  you  be  as  j^ood  a  king  as  you  have  been 
a  .sou."  The  scene  was  most  touching.  The  body 
of  the  King  was  then  embalmed,  and  preparations  were 


'*^'  A  vi:ap  I^;  i-oi.-n'GA!.. 

nuHle  f<;r  the  finier;.],  uliicli  was  appointed  fc;r  the 
followin,^  S..ltinl;.y,  k-.n-in;;  eight  days  in  wliich  special 
ain1;assadors  cotild  come  t-,  represent  the  sovcreii-ns  of 
Jvurope. 

The  funeral  <;f  the  Kin-  was  verv  imposin-  He  lay 
in  state  at  Cascaes  f..r  a  feu-  days,  and  was  then  ])orne 
to  tlie  heauliful  Igreja  c  .Mosteiro  de  Santa  Marii  de 
IJcleni,  nolfar  from  Lisbon,  t]:e  Convent  of  St.  J.ronie 
It  was  c.n  tin's  spot  that  \'asco  de  Gania  passed  tlic 
ni^ht  before  his  de])artin-e  on  liis  fanions  vova<-c  of 
<liscovery,  in  a  small  chapel,  askin- God's  ble'ssin- on 
li>s  penlons  nnderlakin-  Here  arc  the  tombs  of  the 
cln  dren  of  Dom  J„ao  III.,  the  i^^reatest  of  all  the  kin^^s 
of  lurluJ,^■d,  whobron^d.t  the  kingdom  to  the  height 
ol  lis  Kl'.ry  ;  the  cenotaph  containing  the  ashes  of  Dom 
Sel>astian,  asissn].],osed,  the  unforlnnale  vonn- king 
who  perished  in  Africa  with  an  arn.v  of  prinei's  and 

nobles:  tin- lomb..fthe;.reat  rar.linal-king.IIcnriqnes- 
tho^eol  I,o„,  M:,„o,.I;,n.I  his  ,,,u<n  Dona  Maria  (he 
danghtcr  of  Ferdinand  the  Calholir.  iM-.nn  this  b-ati- 
liful  and  Insloric  chnreh  t!,e  bo<Iv  of  the  King  was 
K.rne  to  Us  fn>al  resting-place  in  St.  \'incente  in  Lis- 
bon, on  vSatnnlay,  October  26th,  atlenderl  bv  a  Ion- 
procession  of  the  representatives  of  many  of  tiie  courts 
m]-.nrope,  the  royal  funily  of  Portugal,  the  ministers 
of  state,  the  (.nicers  of  the  army  and  navy.  The  pro- 
cession was  k-d  by  a  platoon  of  cavalry.  They  were 
followed  by  si.K  heraldic  ensigns  lu^ring  heraldic 
bamiers  ;  all  the  corporations  which  wished  to  j(Mn  the 
processi.Hi  ;  a  great  mnnber  of  ladies  mourning  f  ;r  the 
Knig  ;  carriages  of  the  presidents  of  the  Cortes  ;  the  car- 
nage of  the  nuniicipal  council  of  Lisbon  ;  high  officers  of 
theeourt ;  the  foreign  princes  who  had  come  to  attend  the 


D!!ATII  AM)  ri'NIilML  ()|-  Till;  KING,  St 

cereinciiy,  among  whom  were  the  Diikc  of  Edinburgh, 
Duke  de  Monli)ensicr,  (fcncriil  Voisin,  reprc-sciiting 
President  Carnot,  General  Werfen,  representing  the 
Ivmperor  of  Germany,  IVincc  Ilohcnzollern,  peers  of 
the  reahn,  and  councilhns  and  ministers  of  stale.  The 
carriage  of  King  Doni  Carhjs  I.  ;  that  of  the  Duke  of 
Oporto,  Dom  AfTonso  ;  the  carriages  of  the  royal 
house,  in  which  were  sealed  the  doorkeeper  of  the 
royal  chamber,  gentlemen  of  the  King,  aides-de-camp 
of  the  military  house  of  the  King,  the  major-domo  of 
the  palace,  with  his  insignia  of  office  and  the  keys  of 
the  coffni,  followed  in  the  procession.  Tlie  royal  crown 
was  carried  on  a  cushion  by  an  oflTicer  of  the  palace. 
High  rei)resenlatives  of  the  clergy  followed,  preceding 
the  funer.'d  carriage,  which  was  heavily  draped  in 
mourning  and  jjrofusely  ornamented  with  flowers.  On 
each  side  of  this  carriage  walked  six  servants  of  the  i)alacc 
carr\ing  torches.  The  ser\ice  of  the  grand  huntsman, 
the  grand  e([uerry,  the  commander  of  the  Royal  (iuard, 
and  the  Royal  Gu.ard,  theofilcers  and  the  milit.iry  house 
of  the  King  followed.  Leaving  lielem  at  nine  o'clock 
in  tlie  morning,  tlie  procession  reached  St.  Vincente  de 
Tora  at  three,  where  a  large  assembly  of  foreign  minis- 
ters in  their  tribune,  senators,  files  of  erect  and  sturdy 
young  men  from  the  na\-y,  members  of  the  press,  and 
ecclesiastics  were  in  waiting.  I  think  every  ICuropean 
nationality  was  represented,  together  with  the  United 
States,  Japan  and  China,  Brazil,  and  the  Republics 
of  South  America. 

At  eleven  o'clock  we  drove  through  the  crowded 
streets  filled  with  a  noiseless  multitude  dressed  in  black  ; 
even  the  poorest  peasants  were  in  mourning,  for  Dom 
Luis  h.id  been  a  good  king  and  much  beloved.     ]C\ery 


82  A  YIAI'  !N  \'()\n\H]A\.. 

(lurirttT  of  ati  hour  for  ci^lit  days  riiid  nij^hts  llie  great 
guns  on  tlie  hliip.s  on  tiic  Tagus  had  hccu  firing,  as 
they  wore  continuously  during  the  procession,  making 
it  alu'ost  inij)ossib]e  to  sleep  in  Lisbon.  When  ^ve 
reached  the  church  of  Si.  \'ineenle  \ve  eiitered  at  a 
side  door,  and  were  taken  !)>•  a  priest,  dressed  in  violet, 
to  a  reception-room,  where  we  met  the  nuncio  wluj  is 
the  head  of  the  diplomatic  corps,  and  who  led  the  pro- 
cession of  foreign  ministers  as  they  entered  the  church 
with  their  wives,  who  in  deep  mourning  occupied  the 
fror.t  seat  of  the  tribune.  The  nuncio  wore  a  violet 
silk  gown  with  a  rochat  of  most  beautiful  lace  and  a 
large  cross  of  acpia-marine  stones  set  in  diamonds. 

The  church  was  hung  with  gold  tapestries  edged 
with  black  velvet.  Three  stationary  c:;tafal([ues  had 
been  erected  along  the  nave,  covered  with  gold  and 
black,  on  e:icli  side  of  which  eight  candles,  six  feet 
hij^h,  burned  in  golden  candlesti  ks.  The  first  cata- 
falque was  near  the  door,  and  there  the  coflln  was 
])laccd  wliile  a  chant  was  sung.  It  was  then  borne 
to  the  second,  in  the  centre  of  the  church,  at  the  head 
of  which  stood  the  cardinal  in  his  scarlet  robes  holding 
a  liigh  gilt  cross,  many  archbishtjps  and  bishops  being 
around  him.  The  cofhn  was  borne  thence  to  its  last 
resting-place — in  the  church  in  fror.t  of  the  high  altar. 
A  black  velvet  pall  with  a  large  white  satin  cross  em- 
broidered with  gold  was  thrown  over  it,  and  the  crown 
of  the  kings  of  Portugal  on  a  satin  cushion  was  ]daced 
at  the  foot.  Dom  Carlos,  the  new  king,  dressed  in  fidl 
uniform  and  covered  with  jewelled  decoraticMis,  walked 
alone  at  the  head  of  the  ])roceSNion.  IJehind  him  came 
the  Duke  d'Ao.^ta,  Duke  de  Montpensier,  and  Dom 
Afibnso.     Every  one  was  in  uniform,  and  the  church 


DEATH  AND  FUNHRAL  OF  TIIF;  KING.  ^3 

was  soon  filled  with  a  glittering  throng  of  courtiers 
and  officials.  In  the  royal  box  sat  the  widowed  queen 
hidden  behind  lier  long  crape  veil,  through  which 
gleamed  the  pink  satin  ribbon  of  the  royal  Order  of  St. 
Isabel  worn  across  her  breast.  By  her  side  .sat  the 
Princess  Letitia  Bonaparte,  the  Duchess  d' Aosta.  The 
King  stood  through  the  ser\'ice  in  front  of  the  box.  As 
the  mass  progressed  numbers  of  lighted  candles  were 
brought  in  and  distributed  until  nearly  every  one  stand- 
ing on  the  floor  held  one.  Their  light  made  the  gold 
hangings  and  the  miiforms  brilliant,  while  high  up  in 
the  vaulted  roof  long  rays  of  sunlight  were  streaming 
through  the  oriel  window  across  to  the  gleaming  altar. 
The  effect  of  the  whole  scene  was  wonderfully  grand 
and  imposing.  At  the  end  of  the  service  the  cardinal, 
followed  by  all  the  other  high  clergy,  walked  twice 
around  the  coffin,  swinging  U[)on  it  a  great  censer,  and 
llicn  ])rocee(led  to  the  Pantheon,  the  royal  tomb,  the 
priests  chanting,  the  organ  pealing,  and  heavy  salutes 
of  c.innon  being  fiicd  astlicy  moved  on.  The  widowed 
Omen  followed  the  cofiin  oJi  the  arm  of  Doni  Carlos, 

'IMie  cardinal  patriarch  olhciated,  and  at  the  close  of 
the  high  mass  pronounced  a  short  eulogy  on  the  char- 
acter of  the  King.  Acc(;m])anied  by  funeral  chants  by 
the  choir  of  the  royal  chai)el,  the  body  was  borne 
into  the  Pantlieon  to  rest  with  the  long  line  of  Bragau- 
za  kings  entombed  there.  By  the  terms  of  the  royal 
decree,  the  grand  marshal  of  the  palace,  before  deliver- 
ing to  the  cardinal  the  mortal  remains,  took  the  oath 
re<inired  by  law  that  tlie  body  was  that  of  His  Majesty 
Dom  Luis  I.  I  le  presided  at  the  ceremony  of  interment, 
and  kept  a  key  of  the  cofTin,  which,  with  a  copy  of  the 
prods  Tt'iixil,  is  to  be  deposited  in  the  archix'es  of  the 


84  A  YHAK  IN  I'ORTUGAL, 

Pantlieoii.  All  the  high  personages  present  signed 
the  prods  verbal,  and  a  dnplicate  kcj'  was  given  to  tlie 
cardinal.  Amidst  heavy  salvos  of  artillery  the  body 
was  deposited  in  its  last  resti!ig-})lace,  and  the  apart- 
ment of  the  royal  dead  was  closed. 

I  li:i\e  spoken  often  of  the  commanding  position  Por- 
tugal held  among  the  nations  of  the  earth  in  her  days 
of  great  colonial  possessions  and  vast  commerce,  long 
before  the  wealth  and  j^ouer  of  our  own  day  were  even 
founded.  But  during  the  last  century  she  has  held  as 
imj)ortant  a  positi(ni  in  the  ])oIilical  world  as  she  for- 
merly heM  in  tlie  world  of  exploration  and  connnerce. 
The  contests  between  f:eed(jm  and  right,  between 
im])eria]i--m  and  constitutional  independence,  were  con- 
stant and  sewre  on  Ikt  soil.  The  rigor  of  arbitrary 
rule  and  the  license  of  revolution  were  displayed  in 
Portugal  witli  almost  as  uukIi  cruelly  and  strength  as 
in  h'rantr.  Unman  life  and  human  conscienc-e  counted 
f(jr  little.  She  was  the  field,  moreover,  on  which  Napo- 
leon was  met  Ity  that  force  wliich  ultinrately  destroyed 
his  empire,  and  Portugal  was  almost  as  fatal  to  him  as 
Russia.  I'ortlic  i)reservation  of  her  integrity  pjigland 
acc(jmplislied  some  of  the  greatest  achievements  on 
land  and  sea,  and  manifested  the  parental  as  well  as 
the  imperial  power  when  she  sent  Sir  Charles  Stuart  to 
represent,  in  the  factious  councils  of  Portugal,  the  practi- 
cal wisdom  of  herownstatesn;(.n.  The  normal  condition 
of  this  little  kingdom  was  one  of  revolutionary  conflicts 
from  the  close  of  the  IVninsular  war  to  the  death  of 
Maria  J  I.,  a  ])eriod  of  nearly  forty  years.  The  peace 
which  has  followed  is  dxMi,  as  I  have  said,  to  the 
good  .'^ense  of  Dom  l-Vrnando  as  regent,  and  still  later 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century  to  the  admiral)le  qualities 
of  the  King  wlio  has  just  died. 


PORTUGL'l-Sl:  INUL'STKV.  8$ 

It  is  evident  to  those  \vho  carefully  obsen'e  her 
course  at  the  present  time  that  the  energy  and  enter- 
prise of  Portugal  ore  as  ready  to  assert  themselves  now 
as  they  have  been  in  limes  jiast.  She  counts  her  claims 
and  enlLTprises  in  Snuth  Africa  and  makes  her  observa- 
tions along  the  coast  of  Congo.  vSlie  is  grt)\ving  watch- 
ful of  her  connnercial  relations.  Not  yet  recovered 
from  the  financial  jirostration  into  which  extravagant 
monarchs  and  exhausting  wars  have  thrown  her,  her 
taxation  is  organized  more  for  revenue  than  for  its 
effect  \ipou  her  industries.  IJut  of  her  resources  there 
can  be  no  doubt.  Already  the  work  of  renovating  a 
worn-out  soil,  one  of  the  great  pr(»])lcms  (if  agriculture, 
lias  been  pr()fita])ly  conducted  on  areas  whic-h  were 
tilled  in  the  days  of  the  Romans  and  the  Moors.  The 
j^rofits  of  well-conduited  manufactures  ha\e  already 
been  (hnionstrated.  In  an  article  ])ublished  in  the  j  or- 
val  do  Coiiniiorio  of  I,isbou  ui>on  the  address  I  made  to 
the  King  on  m\-  presentation  I  find  the  following  com- 
ments : 

"  From  the  discourse  which  the  Minister  Resident  of 
the  I'niied  States  of  America  pronounced  on  delivering 
his  credentials,  which  accredited  him  to  this  court, 
We  take  tlie  following  ])assages.  to  which  we  attach  the 
greatest  importance  at  the  present  lime  ;  and  which 
])ro\e  how  deeply  the  government  of  that  flourishing 
state  desires  and  takes  interest  in  tlie  encouragement  of 
agricultiire  : 

"  '  In  his  comnumication  to  my  faithful  and  distin- 
guislied  predecessor  announeing  m\'  appointment  to 
the  ]M)st  which  he  has  so  honorably  fdled,  the  {secretary 
of  vState  informed  liim  that  I  have  held  an  important 
ofTicial  relation  to  tlie  agriculture  of  the  I'nited  vStates 
as  Commissioner.      In  this  service  I  ha\e  learned  the 


86  A  YHAR  IN'  rOPTIJGAL 

value  of  national  industries  to  the  ^\•elfare  of  the  state, 
and  I  trust  I  may  ])e  allowed  to  observe  and  investigate 
the  methods  by  •which  Your  Majesty's  people  preser\'e 
and  develop  that  occupation  Avhich  is  the  fundamental 
callin;^  of  all  nations,  the  central  pillar  in  that  social 
system  of  which  connnerce  and  manufactures  are  the 
associates,  and  which  hind  all  peoples  together  in  a 
connnon  ])rotherhood.' 

"The  discourse  of  the  Minister,  abandoning  the  nar- 
row limits  of  a  mere  exchange  of  compliments  to  which 
such  discourses  have  usually  been  restricted,  presented 
the  ])rogramme  of  his  mission,  which  appears  to  have 
for  its  object  a  s])cci.'d  study  of  our  agriculture  and 
industry. 

"  We  hail  with  cntliusiasm  :uid  faith  tlie  new  Ameri- 
can Miiii:^ler,  who  during  some  years  (U-dicnted  himself 
to  the  study  and  analysis  of  the  manifold  (jUkstions  of 
agriculture,  upon  which,  lie  made  an  important  report, 
which  served  to  enlighten  his  govennnent  and  led  to 
the  adoption  of  measures  leading  to  the  development 
of  agricultural  industry. 

"At  the  ])resent  time,  when  agrarian  questions  so 
greatly  f)ccupy  the  gf)venunents  of  all  I-'uropean  nations, 
it  is  truly  agreeable  to  record  that  the  choice  <:)f  the  new 
Minister  of  the  I'nited  States  should  have  fallen  upon 
a  gentleman  possessing  such  excellent  (jualifications. 

"To  develop  our  conuuercial  relations  with  the 
United  vStates  is  a  mission  which  long  since  should 
have  attracted  the  attention  of  our  government,  for  the 
purpose  of  drawing  to  our  ])ort  the  i>resence  of  North 
American  shipping,  which  would  confer  npc)u  us  such 
great  benefits 

"  The  enormous  and  un2)aralleled  progress  which  this 


K)KTiJGiirsi;  inijustry.  87 

nation  has  attained  plainly  demonstrates  not  only  its 
great  and  expanded  commercial,  indusLrial,  and  agricul- 
tural development,  but  as  well  in  its  monetary  resources, 
which  reacts  and  is  powerfully  felt  in  the  markets  of 
ICurope.     Our  country  from  its  geographical  position 
sliotdd  be  prepared  in  every  way  to  become  \.\\q  Cfi/rr/)ot 
of  inter-oceanic  conununication  ;  and  therefore  our  re- 
lations with  the  I'nited  vStates  should  be  strengthened 
and  made  closer  in  all  respects.     The  great  expansion 
of  the  industry  of  North  America  renders  home  cim- 
sumption    inefficient    for    the    great    production;    and 
hence  the  exportations  of  products  demand  the  greatest 
care   from  the  government  of  so  i)rosi>erous  a  nation- 
ality.    Tlie  i)ort  of  Li>bon  is  the  nearest  station  from 
the  American  c(»ntinenl,  and  if  in  it  the  commerce  of 
the  United  Slates  should  meet  with  facilities  it  wtmld 
certainly  lead  to   the  establishment  of  an   cuircpoi  or 
warehonse  for  the  dei)osits  of  their  manufactures  des- 
tined for  the  Ivuropean  markets. 

"  We  are  enthusiastic  partners  of  mercantile  develo^v 
ment.  so  that  agriculture  and  industry  may  prosper; 
and  in  the  prosecution  of  our  progranune  we  have 
always  the  greatest  satisfaction  when  we  see  new  advo- 
cates i)resent  themselves  who  concur  in  encouraging 
commerce. 

"  We  are  convinced  that  the  treaty  of  commerce  with 
the  United  vSlates  will  bring  great  advantages  to  our 
country,  not  only  by  reciprocal  exchanges  of  agricul- 
tural productions,  but  because  a  great  luimber  of  manu- 
factured articles  would  meet  in  this  conntn,"  with  ready 
sale. 

"Ac  i)resent  the  Minister  who  made  so  favorable  a 
presentation  will  meet  with  an  obstacle  in  carrying  out 


8S  A  YF.AR  IN  l-ORTUGAL. 

his  mission — that  is,  the  coercive  regulations  as  regards 
the  importation  of  \vheat  which  were  enacted  mainly 
in  reference  to  tlie  American  jnarket.  This  obstacle, 
which  originated  before  the  arrival  of  the  worthy  diplo- 
mat, will  certainly  not  lead  him  to  cool  the  enthusiasm 
which  our  country  created  within  hitn,  where  he  will 
fiU'l  the  most  ccMclial  greeting  in  tlie  discharge  of  his 
high  duties  by  the  s>'iiii);ithy  nnd  friendship  whicli  o\ir 
people  accord  to  the  formidable  atliletes  (>[  the  Democ- 
racy and  of  material  pn*gress." 

Portugal  ])ossesses  many  advantages  for  industrial 
enteri)rises.  Her  climate  is  mild  through(nit  the  year. 
A  large  j)orlif»n  of  her  soil  is  cajiable  of  cullivaliou  ; 
and  the  cuUivatots  are  a  hatd\',  iiuliistriotis,  and  tem- 
j)erale  jteople.  The  harbor  f)f  J^isbon  is  unefjualled  on 
the  ];uro[)eaii  coa>t  of  the  Atlantic  for  its  spaciousness 
and  safety,  and  is  api)roachable  at  all  seasons  witliout 
exposure  to  the  se\ere  gales,  the  ice,  and  the  fogs  of  the 
iiortliern  Atlantic  I,isb(;n  is  connected  now  with  the 
interior  of  Spain  b\-  a  well-organized  railroad  arrangc- 
jnent,  and  thenee  to  I'rance  and  the  north  of  Italv. 
Conunerce  toniid  from  the  Mediterranean  can  centre  at 
this  I)ort ;  and  Mediterranean  commerce  now  means 
the  way  o])ened  by  the  Suez  Canal  to  the  great  markets 
of  the  Ivist,  The  c'lruinels  f»f  trade  Uiay  not  as  yet  lie 
in  this  direction  ;  but  tlie  time  is  coming,  as  I  finnly 
believe,  when  Xew  York  will  be  the  centre  of  exchange, 
and  the  necessity  of  shi])j)ing  by  the  way  of  Ilatuburg 
and  I/tndoii  will  cease.  The  future  of  I,isi;oii  should 
be,  and  uudotd/tedly  will  be,  as  great  as  its  jiast ;  and 
th;it  the  commercial  and  fiiiaiKial  ])ower  of  the  world 
will  lie  on  the  Americ.-in  continent,  who  can  doubt? 


CHAPTHR  V. 

Toi^Ri:s  vihRAs.    iu;Mi"K:A.-Ai.c:onACA. 

October  2(jth. — In  going  nortli  from  Lisbon  it  is  not 
the  chnrchcs  and  palaces  and  c(Mivents  alone  which 
attract  the  attention.     The  rounded  hills  crosvned  with 
windmills,  the  valleys  clothed  with  corn,  the  grazing 
flocks  and  herds,  the  glimpses  of  the  sea  which  dances 
and  sparkles  along  this  coast  as  if  the  sea-nymjihs  dwelt 
here  and  as  if  Neptune  had  selected  these  waters  for 
his  high  court,  make  up  a  view  of  constant  ami  varied 
beauty,  and  reconcile  the  traveller  to  the  deliberate 
progress  of  the  Portuguese  railway.     Often  at  this  time 
of  the  year  the  passenger  will  fnul  an  entire  compart- 
ment to  himself  in  which  seven  of  the  "eight  asscnios'' 
are  unoccupied,   where  he  cati  lounge  and  look  and 
think  without  being  molested  by  the  smokers  of  cigar- 
ettes.    The  landscape  is  not  very  lively,  burnt  brown 
as  it  is  by  the  nununer's  sun,  nor  arc  the  hedgerows 
and  gardens  and  copses  very  nuisical,   ubai\doned  as 
they  are  by  every  singing-bird,  if  they  ever  had  any. 
The  newsboys  at  the  stations  sound  their  four  notes 
and  a  nnisical  octave  to  tell  you  that  they  have  the 
morning  jonrn.d,  and    llie    water-carriers   suing   their 
ftiKifrs  and  cry  water  wilh  a  final  qi<^  worthy  of  the 
rich   man  who  called    for  water  to  cool    his   tongue. 
There  is  a  good  dc;d  of  Tortuguese  language  sent  forth 

8<> 


90  A  YEAR  IN  rORTUGAL. 

with  successive  explosions  at  these  stations  by  those  in 
the  busy  walks  of  life,  who  are  unir.iudful  of  the  fine 
modulations  of  which  the  lani;uaj;e  is  capable.  There 
is  a  strange  sort  of  animal  vig<^r  in  the  midst  of  the 
natural  rcjxxse.  Things  are  done  and  said  with  a 
will  and  an  enurgy  which  seem  wholly  unnecessary 
luider  the"  circumstances.  JCven  the  donkeys  bray  with 
a  vocal  force  unknown  to  more  high-toned  and  dignifiecl 
domestic  animals.  All  this  is  attractive  for  a  time,  ])ut 
the  sameness  of  the  landscape,  and  the  stillness  of  the 
air,  and  the  monotony  of  tongues,  and  the  loneliness 
and  sechisioM  of  tlic  comi>Mrtmenl  bring  on  a  refhclis'e 
mood,  in  which  the  e\(iil^>  wronj-ht  ont,  and  tlie  <K'sijMis 
laid,  and  the  llioiiglits  evolved  along  this  sliore  become 
more  interesting  and  important  than  the  shore  itself. 

After  lea\ing  the  sacred  ])recincts  of  iJemfica  and  the 
stately  arches  of  the  afpieduct,  of  which  you  no  more 
tire  than  you  do  of  the  everlasting  hills,  the  green  earth- 
works remind  you  that  you  are  on  that  line  along  which 
the  Duke  of  Wellington  constructed  the  fortifications 
which  enabled  him  to  drive  the  French  from  Portugal. 
The  linesof  Torres  \'edras  are  as  famous  in  the  history 
of  war  on  the  ])eninsula  as  the  convention  of  Cititra  is 
in  the  histoiy  of  ])eaee.  I  h.a\e  alwa>"s  had  a  great  ad- 
miration for  the  Duke  of  Wellington — as  who  has  not? 
I  saw  him  once  in  the  House  of  Dords,  stately,  old.  and 
silent,  but  he  seemed  to  rise  superior  to  I'.rougham  and 
Stanley  and  Russell  an<l  the  rest,  ])artl)'  because  he  bore 
a  more  commanding  jirescnci-,  and  partly,  I  suppose, 
because  he  was  the  eoiiiparor  at  Watci  loo,  and  more 
becruise  he  could  look  back  on  >ur]\  a  tremendous  life 
— tremenclous  is  the  only  wfnd  which  describes  that 
life.      1  have  alwavs  been  sorr\-  that  thev  removed  his 


TORRFS  VliDRAS.-BUMnCA.-ALCOBACA.  91 

equestrian  statue  at  Hyde  Park,  for  it  was   the  Iron 
Duke  on  a  thoroughbred.     I  always  Hked  the  way  in 
which  he  told  a  flatterer  not  to  "  make  a  damned  fool 
of  himself"     I  think  the  grim  chuckle  with  which  he 
pointed  an  applauding  cn^wd  U)  the  iron  shutters  on 
his  jtalacc-,  put  there  after  a  mob  had  threatened   its 
destruction,— i)ointed,  too,  with  the  handle  of  his  riding- 
whip,  as  he  rode  through  the  cheering  nniltitude, — is 
one  of  the  best  j)ictures  of  lofty  scorn  on  record.     The 
gentle  affection  he  manifested  towards  the  }-oung  (jueen 
at  her  inauguration,  the  war  woin  veteran  that  he  was, 
whom  ir<.)n  alone  could  l>  pif> ,  aKva\s  brought  tears  to 
my  e\«.'S,  as  a  ])iilure  of  Jingli.sh  loyalty  and  jtride  and 
jiarenlal  solicitude  ar.d  lnve.      When  he  said  he  had  no 
talk  and   ralmerston  had   no   manners,   and  when  he 
objected  to  Napoleon  because  he  was  no  gentleman,  he 
somehow  won  m\'  admiration.     lUit  when  I  passed  my 
eye  along  the  hill-tojis  that  lead  from  Lisbon  to  Torres 
\'edras,    in    sight   of  that  ostentatious  and    imposing 
monument  of  kingly  pride  and  extravagance  at  Mafra, 
making  a  horizon    from    the   heights   of  Cintra,   and 
remembered  that  here  a.s  a  young  man,  .so  young  that 
an  incompetent  senior  oHicer  ,super^ede<l  him  on  the  field 
of  battle,  I  nutst  confess  that  I  admired  him  more  than 
I  did  wb.en  I  traced  the  furrows  of  his  caiuion-shot  at 
Waterloo    and    saw    his   great  sword    can'ing   up    the 
emi)ire  Napoleon  had  built  in  Continental  l-auopc.    He 
was  in  a  great  conip;in>',  moreover,  on  these  shores  and 
among  these  hills.     The  bones  of  John  de  Castro  might 
have  moved  in  their  sacred  tomb  where  they  had  re- 
posed two  centuries  and  a  half,  and  his  spirit  might 
have  rejoiced  in  its  hiavenly  abode,  as  the  footfall  of 
the  great  warrior  was  heard  on  those  heights.      He  had 


92  A  YtAK  IN  rORTlJGAL. 

gone  forth  in  his  youth  to  stay  the  hand  of  the  great 
cuiKjneror  of  ICurope,  and  he  halted  nt)t  until  he  had 
accomplished  Iiis  mission  at  Waterloo  ;  and  this  was 
the  spot  where  his  work  began. 

Torres  Vedras  was  fortified  as  silently  as  was  Jhinker 
Hill.  Ik-fore  iCurope  was  aware  of  it,  a  hundred  and 
fifty  forts,  redoubts,  atid  batteries,  extending  along  the 
liills  a  distance  of  forty  miles,  had  been  constructed. 
The  details  of  the  woik  were  complete — perfect  for  its 
inte:ition.  "  I'or  the  militia  there  are  nearly  inattacka- 
bkr  po>ts  to  guard  tlie  passes  ;  f  )rlhe  infantry,  admirable 
fields  of  battle  suited  to  ensure  and  pn)fit  by  victory  ; 
for  the  cavalr}',  spaciotis  plains  to  which  the  enemy 
nuist  curi\-e  thr(nii;h  ])asses  rendered  impracticable  to 
their  cavalry  and  artilkTy."  »So  said  a  l.'rave  and 
skilful  commander.  ]hit  Wellington  fought  as  well  as 
fortified.  In  August,  iSoS,  he  fought  at  Rolica  and 
cut  off  the  connnrniii.-ation  of  the  hVench  army  with 
Li.sbon.  He  accf)mplished  his  funous  ])assage  o(  the 
Douro  an<l  drove  »Soult  from  C)porto.  He  fought  Xey 
and  Junot  at  I'.usaco  ;  and  drove  the  l-'rcnch  out  of 
Portugal.  Of  course  I  make  this  story  short.  The 
events,  lio\vvv<.r,  ha\e  ma<le  the  ground  <»ver  which  we 
are  lra\-elling  histoiic,  and  have  ser\'ed  as  a  theatre  on 
which  J'.nglish  valor  has  dis])layed  its  most  lu-roie 
(qualities.  Here  Wellington  connnenrcd  liis  great  c-a- 
reer  of  succ-ess  which  gave  Ivn gland  the  mastery  of 
I'hirope,  and  on  this  c«)ast  Sir  John  Moore  won  his 
inunortality,  and  inspired  the  h'nglish  iK)et  who  sang 
for  him  the  sweetest  rcfjuiem  known  to  the  sweetest  of 
all   languages. 

P>nt  long  before  you  reach  Corunna  and  the  heights 
of  Jilvira,   where  >Sir  John   Moore  f*jll,   you    arrive    at 


TORRUS  VEDRAS.-BEMFICA.-ALCOBAgA.  9^ 

Oporto,  where  Wellington,  two  years  before  he  fortified 
Torres  Vedras  and  four  months  after  the  death  of 
Moore,  performed  his  first  great  act  in  driving  the 
French  from  the  Iberian  peninsula.  It  was  on  the 
1 2th  of  May,  iSoj,  that  Wellington  reached  the  south 
bank  of  the  Douro,  and,  looking  from  the  precipitous 
rocky  hill,  past  whose  base  the  river  flows,  saw  Soult 
occupying  the  opposite  bank  and  having  destroyed  all 
means  of  communication  across  the  stream.  On  his 
way  from  Coimbra,  in  connnand  of  fourteen  tliousand 
men,  he  had  succeeded  in  (lri\ing  the  French  into  the 
city,  and  had  compelled  the  great  marshal  to  mass  all 
his  troops  on  the  northerly  side  of  the  stream.  Across 
that  deep  and  rapid  current  he  discovered  the  oi>p<ir- 
tunity  afforded  him  by  the  Seminario,  an  unfinished 
building  on  the  high  bank,  with  a  lofly  stone  wall  en- 
closing space  enough  fur  a  strong  body  of  soldiers.  A 
boat  to  cross  the  stream  and  a  concealed  battery  on  the 
Sen'a.  enabled  him  to  embark  his  trooi)S  aiitl  to  occupy 
the  vSeminario  before  the  French  had  discovered  his 
movement,  and  had  rallied  to  that  fierce  attack  so 
famous  in  that  cami)aign.  The  I'.nglish  battery  com- 
manded all  ai)])roach  to  the  hill  ;  the  peoi)le  of  the 
town  rallied  to  transi)ort  thvir  deliverers  across  the 
river;  the  I'rench  retired  before  the  sturdy  work  of  the 
I'higlish  troops  and  the  well-devised  movement  of  the 
iCnglish  commander.  Oporto  was  relieved  ;  vSoidl's 
army  was  in  full  retreat  ;  and  but  for  the  apathy  of  the 
German  troops  luxler  General  Murray  woidd  have  been 
completely  de..tro>ed.  It  was  here  that  the  I'rench 
learned  that  (pi.dity  of  the  ICnglish  soldier  which 
secured  the  great  victory  at  Waterloo. 

In  his  campaigns  along  tlie  Atlantic  coast  of  Portugal 


94  A  YEAR  IX  l'(iKTL'GAL. 

Wellington  occupied  ground  already  famous  for  military' 
acliicvcnients  and  for  fierce  conflicts  even  in  tlie  olden 
times.  Tlie  railway  carries  you  through  a  constant 
succession  of  historic  towns.  At  Alemquer,  hut  a  few 
miles  on  the  way,  still  stand  the  nuns  of  the  strongest 
fortress  Iniilt  by  the  Moors  in  Portugal,  captured,  in 
114S,  by  Affonso  Ilenricjues,  the  proclaimed  King  of 
Portugal,  the  deliverer  of  Lis]>on  from  the  Moors,  the 
founder  of  the  i)'nver  of  the  kingdom.  It  was  at 
Santarem  that  the  aged  Affonso  IIenri([ues  rallied  his 
army  in  aid  of  his  .son,  I)'>m  vSanclio,  in  his  final  victory 
over  the  Mcjors.  At  Coimbra,  the  first  capital  of  the 
monarchy,  Rodrigo  de  P.ivar,  the  celebrated  Cid,  in 
1064  vancjuished  the  Moors  and  expelled  them  forever 
from  the  town  ;  and  here,  a  lunidred  and  twenty  years 
later,  AlTonso  llenricpies  held  a  council  of  his  warriors 
and  organized  his  expedition  against  Santarem.  When 
I  consider  the  history  of  tliis  little  slrij)  of  sea-coast  I 
am  not  sure  that  it  has  received  credit  enough  for  the 
example  it  has  set  of  resistance  to  usurpers,  of  devotion 
to  the  best  government  within  its  reach,  of  valor  on  the 
field,  of  power  in  council,  of  enterprise  on  sea  and  land, 
and  of  culture  (jf  the  Inunan  mind  and  the  inspiration 
of  heroic  endeavor. 

I'rom  the  earliest  ])eriod  of  Portuguese  history  until 
our  own  generation  Oporto  has  been  the  seat  of  ci\'il 
and  militar}'  contests,  and  has  .secured  to  itself  the  title 
of  tlie  IlncoiKjuered  City.  P'or  nearly  two  centuries  it 
rcmainerl  utterly  annihilated  by  war — from  <S2o  to  icxx). 
Rebuilt  at  that  time  l;y  the  P'rench  it  took  the  ])art  of 
Dom  AlTonso  in  his  war  with  Dom  Dini/, ;  its  inhabi- 
tants, men  aiul  woiiun,  struck  against  a  tax  im])oscd,  in 
1628,  <jn  linen  and  woollen  nianufactun-s  ;  against  a  tax 


TORRES  VEDRAS-BEMFICA.    ALCOBA^A.  95 

on  stamped  paper  they  struck  again  in  1661  ;  theyrose 
in  insurrection  in  1756  against  the  wine  monopoly  of 
P()inl>al  and  sulTcrcd  executions  on  the  scaiTold  and 
confiscation  for  their  efforts;  in  1807  they  rose  against 
the  French  yoke  ;  in  1S20  they  i)roclaiined  the  consti- 
tution ;  in  1842  tl ley  repkiced  the  charter  ;  iniS46thcy 
replaced  the  constitution  ;  in  1832  they  sheltered  Doni 
Pedro  with  his  army  of  seven  thousand  five  hundred 
men,  when  he  was  besieged  by  Dom  Miguel  unsuccess- 
fully ;  and  after  the  defeat  of  Doni  Miguel  they  sent 
forth  the  Conde  de  Villa  Flor  on  his  excursion  to 
Algarve  and  thence  to  Lisbon,  defeating  Telles  Jardao 
and  breaking  up  the  Miguelites  there  ;  they  witnessed 
the  defeat  of  IJourniont  and  the  collapse  of  the  pretender 
and  claimant  ;  and  they  rejoiced  in  the  coronatiou  of 
Maria  Gloria  as  (pieen. 

On  the  route  from  Lisbon  north  lies  Aljubarn)la,  a 
baltle-groiuul  never  to  be  forgotten  or  overlooked  in  a 
sur\-ey  of  Portugal.  It  is  a  little  town  lying  almost 
under  the  .shadow  of  the  best  ecclesiastical  architecture 
in  Portugal.  Here  was  decided  the  independence  of 
this  kingdom.  In  13S3  Dom  PVniando  L  died  and  left 
no  legitimate  heir  to  the  throne,  his  daughter,  Dona 
Ikites,  having  married  Don  Juan  L  of  Castile.  The 
Cortes  at  Coimbra  undertook  to  estal)lish  a  succession 
in  the  ])erson  of  the  Master  of  Avi/.,  an  illegitimate  son 
of  Pom  Pedro  L  This  opportiuiity  for  conquest  was 
not  lost  upon  the  King  of  Castile,  who,  gathering  liis 
army,  marched  upon  Lisbon,  to  be  followed  by  the  Mas- 
ter of  Avis,  now  known  as  Dom  Joao  L  of  Portugal. 
The  son  of  his  father  fell  upon  the  vSpanish  army  witli 
great  fury  and  routed  them  horse,  foot,  and  dragoons. 
The   victory   was   complete.     The  standard  of  Castile 


96  A  YfiAR  IN  TOI'TUGAL. 

was  t:ik<,:n,  aii'l  tlic  Cistiliau  Dun  Jtian  ikd  on  liur.se- 
]yuk  to  his  (luarlers  at  Saiitarein.  His  entire  outfit, 
such  as  a  Castilian  hiii;^  in  all  liis  ^;lory  would  jjrovi'lc, 
fe-ll  into  th'-'  liands  of  the  h.islanl.-includin^^  a  silver 
triixxl  for  the  altar,  a  large  liible.  liehnets  and  swords, 
and  the  pelote  of  I>on  Juan.  The  victory  was  attrib- 
uted to  St.  Ik-rnard,  and  the  independence  of  Portugal 
was  esta]:)lished. 

I  suppose  battles  and  Ixittle-fields  are  not  the  uiost 
interesting  objects  for  a  traveller's  record,  and  yet  they 
will  not  be  passed  over,  nor  will  their  heroes  be  ueg- 
lecled.  They  furnish  the  background  of  the  great 
panorama  of  civilization  ;  and  they  mark  the  ways 
mankind  has  travelled  in  the  construction  of  .social  and 
civil  organization.  "The  battle  of  Waterloo  swung 
back  tlie  progress  of  ]Curope  for  ten  generations,"  said 
the  great  iCnglish  divine.  The  battle  of  Ihmk.i  Hill 
gave  vital  force  to  an  ui)rising  republic.  The  battle  of 
Octty^biug  confirmed  the  strcnglli  of  a  nation.  We 
.survey  the  fields  where  these  things  were  acconi])lished 
— not  those  alone  where  the  heroes  fell  and  monuments 
are  erected. 

But  why  .shouM  I  ff^rget  the  naval  engagements  in 
tlie  waters  which  wash  the  coast  from  Corunna  to  Gib- 
raltar—the great  ICnglish  victories,-— which  did  so  nuich 
to  control  the  politics  of  lvuroi)e  :  that  of  Kodney,  who 
destroyed  the  vSi)anish  fleet  in  17.S0;  that  of  Nelson, 
who  broke  the  jxnver  of  hVance  at  Trafalgar  ;  and  that 
of  Sir  Charles  Napier,  who  destroyed  the  fleet  of  Doni 
Miguel  and  placed  Dona  Maria  Gloria  on  the  throne 
of  Portugal. 

Northern  Portugal  has  always  been  distinguished  for 
its  great  ecclesiastical  buildings — churches,  convents, 


TORRES  VHDRAS.    SHMFICA-ALCOBAQA.  97 

monasteries.  Its  ancient  buildings  have  been  largely 
(leslroye'l  -Diose  great  religi<ius  foundations  for  which 
wars  were  carried  on  and  in  the  construction  of  which 
vast  wealth  was  lavished.  Tliere  arc  many  mutilated 
remains,  but  few  perfect  buildings.  The  glory,  too,  is 
g(Mie.  Tlie  cloisters  are  deserted,  the  cells  abandoned, 
the  chajKds  arc  idle,  the  arches  no  longer  re-echo  to  the 
music  of  the  mass  or  to  the  solemn  responses  of  the 
assembled  ecclesiastics. 

This  heroic  section  of  Portugal  is  also  one  of  the  most 
thrifty.    The  Douro  region  is  known  for  the  fertility  of 
its  soil,  the  luxuriance  of  its  pastures,  the  value  of  its 
crops,  the  size  of  its  cattle,  and  generally  for  the  sturdy 
development  of  its  men  and  the  beauty  of  its  women. 
It  seems  as  if  the  glow  of  the  Celts,  the  vigor  of  the 
Saracens,  the  finely  chiselled  features  of  the  Moors,  the 
vivacity  of  the  bVencli,  and  the  solemnity  of  the  Jews 
had  all  combined  to  make  up  this  remarkable  people, 
the  best  of  whom  are  at  the  north.     It  is  from  this 
region  and  beyond  to  the  IJay  of  15iscay  that  the  most 
erec-t  and  gracefid  and  tidy  of  the  girls  who  carry  great 
burdens  on  their  heads  come  to  Lislx)!!.     If  you  ask  a 
landowner  where  his  farm   is  situated,  he  will  reply 
proudly,    "On   the  Douro"  ;    meekly  if   south  of  the 
Tagus.     The  great  river  that  waters  this  regiini  is  rich 
in  all  that  makes  a  river  valuable  :  good  water  power, 
good  fishing,  most  delici(nis  water  for  drinking,  most 
delectable  for  washing.     The  people  along  its  banks  arc 
well  developed,  and  evidently  well  fed.     They  live  in  a 
charming    country    where    hill    and    valley    arc    well 
balanced  and  arc  luxuriantly  clad  with  verdure.     The 
landscape  resembles  the  inimitable  beauty  of  the  tree- 
crowned  hills  and  green  valleys  of  Vcnuont  iu  mid- 


98  A  VliAI-'  IN  lOimiCM.. 

suinincr,  without  the  gorgeous  and  flaming  coloring  of 
autumnal  forests.  It  is  easy  to  account  for  the  power 
and  independence  of  a  ]x-oi)le  borti  on  a  soil  like  this. 
It  is  easy  also  to  account  for  their  fon<lness  for  comf(;rt- 
able  homes  aufl  good  apparel.  The  peasantry  who  are 
in  good  circumstances  ])ossess  a  most  picturesque  ward- 
robe— picture>-qnc  for  Portugal  even,  where  the  dyed 
colors  arc  most  ])enutiful — from  the  handkercliiefs  worn 
on  the  head  to  the  bodice  and  the  border  of  the  skirt. 
Their  gohl  ornaments  are  of  the  most  graceful  and 
artistically  wrought  patterns,  and  are  worn  in  great 
profusion.  The  people  are  temperate  and  peaceable 
and  apparently  cheerful.  Careworn  faces  and  mournful 
voices  are  not  often  met  with.  Their  dances  are  fre- 
quent and  long  continued,  aiid  their  singing  is  sweet 
and  natural  as  a  bird's.  They  are  as  courteous  and 
civil  as  the  best  classes  in  what  is  consick-red  the  best 
.society,  and  more  reverenli.d  than  many  persons  who 
are  brought  up  in  what  claims  to  ])e  an  especially  rev- 
erential class  in  a  commiuiity. 

I  ha\'e  no  doubt  that  the  influence  of  the  dismantled 
churches  and  convents  and  monasteries  still  remains 
among  the  people  of  I'ortugal.  In  the  neighborhood 
of  Alcol)aca — in  this  section  which  I  am  now  observing 
— the  traditions  and  memories  of  the  old  c<jnvent  must 
remain.  It  is  not  many  years  since  the  glory  of  the 
church  at  Alcobaya  was  at  its  height.  The  luxurious- 
ness  of  tlie  table  was  unsurpassed.  The  kitchen  and 
the  wine  cellar  were  filled  with  an  abundance  and 
variety  of  all  man  could  desire  to  cat  and  drink.  The 
apartments  were  gorgeous  with  Persian  carpets,  lace- 
bordered  na])kins,  ewers  and  basins  of  .solid  silver. 
The  dining  saloon  was  richly  decorated  and  furnislied, 


TORKI;S  VIUWAS.    I5I:MF!CA.    ALa)UA<;A.  99 

and  at  the  dining  hour  Ii};hlcd  ^vith  numerous  wax 
tapers  in  sconces  of  silver.  The  menu  surpassed  that  of 
the  Romans — h\mpreys,  edible  l)ird's-nesls,  most  delicate 
I)reparations  of  pf)rk  and  veal  and  poultry.  The  wines 
were  most  delicate,  richly  made,  atid  ripened  to  perfe*c- 
tion.  The  incense  of  aromatic  woods  through  the  hall 
attended  the  feast.  The  banqueting-room  is  now  closed, 
the  silver  scattered,  the  luxury  and  religion  of  Alcoba^a 
are  all  over. 

The  monastery  was  commenced  in  1148  and  fmished 
in  1272.     The  nine  hundred  aiul  ninety-nine  monks  in- 
habiting it  were  divided  into  three  deaneries,  so  succeed- 
ing each  other  that  jiraise  never  ceased  under  that  roof. 
The  A])bot  held  the  rank  of  an  archbishop.    The  endow- 
ment of  the  monastery  was  grer.t.     The  tombs  of  kings 
and  queensburied  there  still  retuain.    Among  them  the 
mausoleum  of  Dom  I'edro  and  Ine/.de  Castro  stands  con- 
spicuous for  its  beauty  and  the  sad  tragedy  it  commem- 
orates.    The  .story  of  Inez  de  Castro  cannot  be  told  to 
often.  Thedaughter  of  a  Spanish  nobleman  who  had  fled 
for  .safety  to  the  court  of  Dom  Afibnso  I\'.  she  was  wooed 
and   won   by  the   infante  Dom    Tedro,  who  privately 
married  her.     Her  position  at  court  attracted  her  coun- 
trymen, who  gathered  around  her  for  that  security  they 
could  not  find  at  home.   The  courtiers  of  A  ffonso  became 
jeahms  of  the  v'^paniards,   an<l   criielly  demanded  the 
death  of  Inez.     During  the  absence  of  Dom  Pedro,  the 
.  King  with  three  of  his  knights  visited  her  at  her  qiiiuta, 
and,  while  he  was  moved  to  pity  by  her  prayers  and 
tears,  his  companions  fell  upon  her  and  murdered  her 
almost  before  his  eyes.     Dom  Pedro  on  his  return  was 
driven    to   madness.      He    took    up    arms   again.st   his 
father,  laid  waste  the  whole  of  Minho,  and  two  of  the 


1(X)  A  YI:AK  in  I'DRTIJGAL. 

murderers  liaviiij^' been  captured  were  tortured  to  death. 
Inez  de  Cnstro  was  entombed  to  await  the  time  when 
Dom  Pedro  had  wrei:ked  liis  vengeance  and  proved  the 
reahty  of  his  private  marriage.  Her  body  was  then 
raised  from  the  tomb  and  crowned  Queen  of  Portugal 
and  the  Algar\-es.  Her  story  lias  passed  itito  the  litera- 
ture of  tlie  world,  while  the  sculptured  efTigies  of  herself 
and  her  lover  and  husband  lie  so  arranged  that  at  the 
resurrection  the  first  object  that  shall  meet  their  eyes 
will  be  the  beloved  forms  of  each  other.  The  great 
historic  i)ile  of  Alcftbava  is  ])rought  home  to  our  hearts 
by  the  tomb  of  I)(;m  Pedro  and  Inez  de  Castro, 

The  art  at  Alcobaya  is  small.  A  portrait  (;f  Thoma.s 
iiP>ecket  and  numenms  inscriptions  to  the  memory  of 
the  knights  slain  in  the  battle  of  Aljui)arnAa  constitute 
all  there  is  u(  it. 

Not  fir  awa>-,  o\er  a  rough  road  terminating  in  a 
wide  i»lain,  is  Hatalha,  where  was  fought  the  great  bat- 
tle, and  where,  high  above  this  level  surface,  stands  the 
great  church  with  its  compact  accumulation  of  but- 
tresses and  pinnacles  so  closely  joined  that  the  Ix-auty  of 
each  individual  spire  and  pinnacle  is  almost  lost.  The 
endowment  of  Batalha  was  small ;  now  it  stands  idle, 
one  of  the  numerous  wasted  investments  of  Portugal  in 
her  daj-s  of  wealth  and  power.  The  memor}'  of  Pom- 
bal's  murderous  decree  at  Batalha  against  the  Duke  of 
Aveiro  on  a  suspicion  of  conspiracy,  and  the  cruel  death 
of  the  duke  and  duchess  with  their  friends  and  fol- 
lowers, with  the  burning  of  their  bodies  and  the  casting 
of  their  ashes  into  the  river,  still  remain  among  the 
horrors  of  Portugal.  Here  repose  the  bodies  of  I)(;m 
Joao  and  his  queen  Philippa  in  a  chapel  of  Gothic 
design  renowned  for  its  beauty  and  grandeur,  with  their 


TORRES  VhDRAS.-BUMnCA.'  ALCOBACA.  101 

hands  clasjK'd  as  in  luarri  i};e  ceremony.  The  lotnbs  of 
Dom  Keniaiulo,  who  died  in  captivity  at  Fez  in  1443; 
and  of  tlic  infante  Dom  Joio,  Master  of  the  Order  of 
Santiai;o  ;  and  of  Dom  Duartc,  Duke  of  Vi/.eu  ;  and 
of  Dom  Pedro,  Duke  of  Coiml)ra,  who  fell  in  the  battle 
of  Alfarrobcira,  form  a  sad  monumental  group. 

The  erection  of  the  church  and  monaster}'  was  com- 
menced in  138S,  and  comi>leted  in  1515.  It  was  erected 
by  Dom  John  in  consequence  of  a  vow  made  on  the 
field  of  Alju])arrota,  and  was  dedicated  to  the  order 
of  the  Dominicans.  Krom  the  day  of  its  completion 
until  now  it  lias  chalknj^cd  the  admiration  of  the 
world.  The  design  of  the  building  is  most  elaborate 
and  bewildering.  Architects  have  endeavored  in  vain 
to  imitate  it  after  the  most  carefid  study  ;  arclueolo^ists 
have  l)een  iniable  to  decipher  its  inscriptions.  It  is  a 
monument  to  the  wealth  and  piety  of  its  designers, 
and  the  great  king  who  caused  its  erection.  Like  its 
ecclesiastical  com])anions,  it  now  stands  idle  and  de- 
.serled — even  its  economical  refectory  closed,  its  chapels 
silent,  its  beautiful  proportions  a  dumb  liistor}'  of  the 
chivalry  of  the  proud  centuries  in  which  it  was  built. 
It  is  a  relic  now,  and  as  such  it  must  remain  to  the 
progressive  generations  that  are  coming  on. 

I  shall  have  more  to  say  hereafter  of  the  wonders  of 
Northern  Portuual. 


CHAFHiil^  VI. 

COIMBRA.-CAMOl-.NS,  DONA  TKI.I.KS.— POMBAL. 

November  2<^lh.  — "  II  seems  to  me  l'cMtn>;;il  lias  seen 
.1  Ki'^'^'i  '1<-''»1  of  fi^htinj;,"  said  Mrs.  I/)riII^^  as  we  s.'\l  last 
evening  over  our  good  wood  fire  at  the  Lawrence  in 
Cintra,  looking  back  over  what  we  had  .'^een,  and  for- 
ward to  what  we  might  .see.  "  There  is  no  donbt  about 
that,"  said  I;  "and  it  has  recjuired  a  great  deal  of 
figliting  to  keep  itself  alive.  vSul»jugated  by  the 
Carthaginians  three  hundre<l  ye;us  before  Christ ;  con- 
quered ])y  the  Romans  eighty  years  after;  invade<l  by 
the  \'andals  in  the  fifth  Christian  century  ;  occupied 
by  the  Moors  in  the  eighth  centtiry  ;  bestowed  upon 
Count  Henriques  by  Affonso  VI.  of  Castile  and 
Leon,  Avith  the  hand  of  liis  daughter,  Theresa,  and 
wrested  from  the  Moors,  after  great  sieges  and  bloody 
battles,  in  the  12th  century  ;  torn  by  a  rebellion  of  the 
aristocracy  in  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  centurj-  ; 
conquering  the  Algarvesat  the  same  time  ;  riven  by  the 
civil  war  and  rebellion  of  the  reii;n  of  Dini/. ;  engaged 
in  the  final  fight  with  the  Mo(jrs  in  1340  ;  ravaged  l)y 
the  civil  war  waged  by  Doin  Pedro  against  the  King 
Affonso  IV.,  who  had  mur(lere<l  his  wife  ;  occupied  in 
the  war  with  Castile,  in  I37<j;  fighting  the  great  battle 
of  Aljnbarrota,  in  1.^70;  carrying  the  war  into  Africa, 
in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  ;  raging  in  another 

103 


COIMBRA.  103 

civil  war,  in  1438,  between  the  Regent,  Dom  Pedro, 
and  AlTonso  V.  ;  attempting  to  take  the  crown  of  Cas- 
tile with  the  sword,  in  1476  ;  startled  by  the  great  con- 
spiracy of  the  nobles  against  the  king  towards  the 
close  of  the  fifteenth  century  ;  conducting  wars  of 
conquest  in  India  in  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth 
century  ;  mourning  over  Dom  »Sebastian's  annihilating 
defeat  in  Africa  ;  busy  with  the  perpetual  conflicts  in  the 
Castilian  usurpation,  from  15.S1  to  \C^o  ;  warrijig  with 
vSpain  for  nearly  thirty  years  for  indepeiulenee,  from 
1640;  fighting  the  Dutch  in  the  Atlantic  islands,  and 
Brazil,  and  the  Spaniards  at  the  Linhas  de  IClvas,  in 
165S  ;  warring  with  Trance  and  vSpain  a  century  after- 
wards ;  opening  the  nineteenth  century  with  her  share 
in  the  Peninsular  wars  against  Napoleon  ;  employed 
from  1S21  to  1S34  in  the  Miguelite  disturbances  ;  count- 
ing fourteen  revolutions  in  fifteen  years  j^recediug  1^51, 
and  engaged  in  numerous  skirmishes  which  I  cannot 
pt)ssil)ly  remember;" — "Let  us  abandon  the  battle- 
grounds for  the  ])rescnt,"  said  Mrs.  Loring,  "and  turn 
our  attention  to  the  schools."  "Schools!"  said  I;  "why, 
there  is  but  one  in  Portugal.  We  will  go  to  Coimbra." 
Such  an  autumn  or  early  Avinter  morning  as  can  be 
cK'cui)ied  by  an  excursion  like  this  is  not  easily  found 
outside  of  Portugal, — and  away  from  that  part  of  Portu- 
gal in  which  we  now  are.  Nearly  five  months  we 
have  been  here,  most  of  the  time  in  Cintra,  and  not  a 
storm  have  we  \et  seen;  but  few  showery  days,  no 
severe  tvdd,  no  frost.  The  heat  has  been  slight  ;  the 
air  has  been  invigorating  ;  and  this  season  of  the  year, 
which  finds  the  trees  bare  of  leaves  in  New  I'jigland, 
and  the  fields  frost-bitten  and  clothed  in  a  winter  garb, 
foUowiiig  a  season  of  tempests  and  long  cold  storm;: 


lO't  A  VKAK  IN  rORTUGAL. 

ami  gales  and  destructive  seas,  is  radiant  here  with 
beauty.  Tlie  sky  to-day  is  cloudless;  the  forests  are 
just  tinp^ed  with  a  golden  yellow  ;  the  leaves  still 
adorn  the  trees  ;  the  air  has  the  flavor  of  May  ;  the 
grass  has  returned  to  the  pastures ;  young  lambs  are 
playing  among  the  flocks  on  the  hillsides ;  and  the 
newly  upturne<l  earth,  which  the  fanners  are  jdoughing 
everywhere,  looks  like  the  beginning,  and  not  the 
close,  of  the  year.  Such  a  day  for  an  excursif>n  is  not 
ofteti  seen  anj'wliere  on  earth.  So  we  go  to  Coimbra. 
Coimbra  li<'S  in  th.it  line  which  I  ])ursued  when  I 
left  Lisbon  and  followed  Tfjrres  \'edras  and  wandered 
along  the  historic  coast  of  J'ortugal.  It  is  a  lnnidred 
and  Ihirlj'-eij^lit  miles  frotn  Lisbcju,  and  the  njad  to  it 
runs  through  that  hist(»rie  p.-irt  of  Portugal  to  which  I 
have  been  .so  nuich  devoted,  and  through  the  towns  of 
Santarem,  Thomar,  and  Pombal,  on  who.se  names  the 
student  of  Portuguese  history  lingers  long.  Of  course 
the  Romans  settled  in  the  valley  of  the  Mondego,  the 
Moors  took  their  place  for  a  .sea.son,  and  in  the  early 
part  of  the  eleventh  century  the  Cid  and  Fernando  the 
Great  fixed  there  the  Castilian  rule.  Coimbra  was 
once  the  capital  of  Portugal,  and  remained  so  initil  the 
C«)rles,  controlled  by  the  elocinencc  of  the  great  lawyer 
John  das  Ke;^'ras,  elected  1  )om  John  I.  "of  good  mem- 
ory "'  king,  when  the  seat  of  go\erniiient  was  moved  to 
Lisbon.  It  has  its  churches  and  its  cathe<lral,  its  uni- 
versity, and  the  buildin;.;s  which  usually  cluster  around 
an  institution  of  learning.  It  can  be  explored  in  a 
reasonably  short  -.jmcc  of  time,  if  one  desires;  has  a 
charming  situation  on  the  hi^di  aiul  hilly  river  bank  ;  is 
old  andfjuaint  and  interesting.  It  has  its  supply  of 
decrepit  beggars  usually  found  in  the  towns  and  cities 


CCMMBKA.  105 

of  Portugal.  The  oldest  inhabitant,  who  still  H\xs  on 
nothing,  as  he  has  done  for  ninety  years,  has  his  terri- 
ble traditions  for  willing  ears.  The  traffic  of  the  place 
is  of  that  litnited  nature  usually  found  in  seats  of  learn- 
ing — feeding  and  lodging  jirofcssors  and  students.  It 
is  tile  university,  tlierefore,  which  citizens  talk  most 
a]K)Ut  and  travellers  visit  first — the  only  university  in 
all  Portugal.  For  Portuguese  ]nirp()ses  it  is  doubtless 
better  than  Oxford  or  Cambridge,  or  Harvard  with  its 
theological  liberality  and  its  political  eccentricity  ;  but 
for  the  outside  world  it  presents  but  few  attractions. 
As  a  law  school  it  takes  high  rtmk  and  su])plies  the 
kingdom  with  judges,  advocates,  and  barristers,  as  well 
as  legislators  and  councillors.  It  educates  the  best  of 
the  medical  fraternity,  enjoys  the  benefit  of  fine  muse- 
ums of  anatomy  and  natural  history,  and  has  an  admi- 
rable library  of  sixty  thousand  volumes  to  which  the 
suppressed  convents  of  St.  Beiito,  ySanta  Cm/.,  vSanta 
Rita,  and  Gra^a  made  liberal  forced  contributions. 
The  capacity  and  deportment  of  the  students  have 
always  held  high  rank.  The  course  of  medicine  lasts 
eight  years  ;  the  law  six  years,  five  for  cjualification  for 
a  judgeship,  and  one  additional  for  the  degree  of  a 
doctor  ;  the  theological  term  is  six  years,  is  controlled 
])y  a  faculty  of  seven  menil)ers,  and  is  very  Ihorouj^h  in 
theological  lore  with  text-books  mainly  in  the  Roman 
lu'lex.  The  terms  begin  in  autumn  and  last  until  the 
end  of  May  ;  examinations  continue  until  the  end  of 
July,  folhnved  by  a  vacation  of  tliiee  months.  About 
S\<x)  is  a  liberal  allowaiuo  for  the  annual  expenses, 
tuition  being  free.  The  accurate  and  sy^tematie  educa- 
tion of  the  university  furnishes  Portugal  with  an  ample 
.sui)ply  of  accomplished  members  of  all  the  liberal  pro- 


106  A  Yl:AR  IN  I'OKTUGAL. 

fcssions,  who  are  lield  in  high  esteem  throughout  the 
kingdom.  For  tlic  supj)!}'  of  technologists,  scientists, 
metapliysici.'ins,  engineers,  mineralogists,  chemists, 
electricifins,  the  university  lias  hardly  reacherl  distinc- 
tion, Tlierc  are,  Jiowever,  five  facultii-s  lhe«;l()gy, 
lavv,  medicine-,  m;itlieniati<.'S,  an'l  j>lii!<>soi)liy,  besides 
a  scliool  of  (K-sig!i. 

Into  the  general  education  of  Pcjrtugal  tlie  students 
of  Coimhra  do  not  appear  to  have  entered,  l-'or  the 
supply  of  teachers  f(jr  what  are  called  municipal  scliools, 
norm.d  schools  for  males  and  females  are  amply  pro- 
vided, ancl  they  furnish  an  excellent  body  of  teachers. 
The  municipal  schools  are  not  graded  as  in  Massachu- 
setts, but  have  been  organized  on  the  system  of  classes, 
which  I  have  always  advocated, — the  old  plan  of  our 
academies,  in  which  tiie  scholars  ha(l  an  opportunity  to 
leain  from  tlie  recitations  (;f  their  associates,  as  well  as 
frtjm  the  guidance  of  the  instructors.  Municipal  schools 
are  ])ro\ided  for  boys  and  girls  se])arately,  and  all  chil- 
dren are  admitted  fiie.  I 'nforlnnately  compulsoiy 
c<lucation  is  not  enforced,  and  the  jiropoition  of  nn- 
e<lucaled  cliildicn  is  conscfpieiilly  very  laij'.e,  In 
addition  to  llie  g<;vernmiJ)t  jjrovisiou  for  clucation, 
theie  aie  many  lil)eially  end<nved  schools  supported  by 
piivate  nuMiifii'cn'e  iind  bei|ii(-.t'..  'I'liere  have  ixiii  a 
few  JMilance-A  «»rtlic  piivate  ii<  adeinit'^  outc  .'.o  well 
l:n</wn  and  so  u>eful  in  N<\v  I-'jigland  J'loin  wliicli 
iilan\'  a<-compIi>li'd  boss  went  forth  inlo  the  hi^'.lier 
walks  (.)(  scludaiship.  The  last  of  the^e,  as  near  as  I 
can  ascertain,  kej)!  in  IJsboii  by  an  I'.nglish  .scholar, 
secured  for  its  founder,  Mr.  Davidson,  .an  ample  fortune, 
nn<l  gave  many  young  men  from  IJsbon  ,nnd  many  from 
Jira/il,   who  desired    an    J'',nglish    education,   but  were 


COIMBRA.  107 

unwilling  to  expose  themselves  to  the  rigors  of  an 
English  climate,  an  op^wrtunity  to  pursue  studies  in 
this  line.  The  collegiate  and  common-school  educa- 
tion of  I'ortUK-'l  '■"'  ^'•'<-'ll  ])rovi(lcd  for,  hut  the  addition 
of  a  Kotind  Hill  with  Ikuicroft  and  Cogswell  at  its 
head,  or  a  I'Vanklin  Academy  ruled  hy  Mr.  Simeon 
Putnam,  or  Ivxeter  with  the  heloved  and  veneral)le 
Al)b<)tt,  or  Andover  with  its  genial  and  authoritative 
Taylor  and  Bancroft,  would  add  greatly  to  the  educa- 
tional privileges  of  a  kingdom  to  which  more  and 
more  young  men  from  abroad  are  amuially  attracted. 
The  Tlniversity  of  Coimhra  should  have  its  attendant 
ICton  and  Rugby,  to  make  the  classical  system  of 
Portugal  complete.  That  its  name  is  beloved  and 
venerated  l)y  all  Portuguese  .scliolars  is  not  stirprising, 
for  from  its  walls  have  gone  forth  the  learned  men 
who  have  made  the  literature  of  Portugal  what  it  is 
— its  historimis  and  poets  and  novelists. 

I  wish  we  could  count  Miranda,  the  neglected 
father  of  I'ortuguese  i)oetry,  among  its  ahnnni  ;  but 
we  cannot,  and  .are  obIige<l  to  leave  him  to  the 
tender  iinicieH  of  the  m;iss  of  mankind  without  tlie 
love  and  aduiiiation  of  a  collejje  fratertiity.  The 
mother  of  Caiuoeiis,  however,  s<tit  lur  ^.oll  to  Coimbra, 
j;;ive  Ik f  mile  to  the  ruhi\';itiou  of  his  mind,  and 
giive  llie  rniiiiliy  of  her  biith  his  innno»t;d  ^m-iiIiis. 
We  all  l.now  hi'W  nli^pla(■ed  Iom'  in  the  at  islocialio 
circles  of  I,i^llon  drove  liim  to  the  wais;  how  his  cen- 
suring \erse  was  ])tniished  by  his  banishment  to  China  ; 
how  he  w;is  cast  .'tshoie  at  (loa,  bearing  his  inunortal 
l)oem  lhrou^;h  the  waves;  how  lie  was  betrayed  and 
star\ed  at  Mo/and »i(|ue  ;  how  he  depended  upon  the 
alms  bestoweil  upon  liis  negro  servant  Antonio  in  the 


108  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

Streets  of  L,isbon  for  his  subsistence  ;  and  liow  at  last  he 
foinid  a  p.-mper's  grave  where  he  rested  in  neglect  initil 
his  country,  inspired  by  a  cultivated  monarch,  erected 
a  stately  and  imposing  nujuument  to  his  memory.     IJut 
we  ought  also  to  remember  that  he  gave  Jus  native 
land  tlie  inspiration  which  great  genius  alone  can  give 
the  mind  and  heart  of  a  people.      What  vShakespearc  is 
to  the  J-'nglish  tongue,  and  Danlc  to  Italy,  and  Goethe 
to   Germany,    and    Caldcron    to   Si)ain,  CauKxiis  is  to 
I'ortugal,  revealing  U)  the  P(;rtuguese  mind  all  that  is 
devoted,  henjic,  and  noble  in  the  history  and  character 
of  the  kingdom.     The  weakness  of  human  nature  con- 
sists not  in  the  absence  of  generous  sentiments,  and 
poetic  emotions,  and  noble  aspirations,  and  warm  ap- 
preciation, ])Ut  in  the  incapacity  of  man  to  express  the 
inmost  workings  of  his  soul.     He  who  utters  all  this 
for  his  fellow-men,  and  gives  shape  to  his  thoughts  and 
feelings,  becomes  for  all  men  the  creator  and   guide. 
Camoens  taught  the  people  of  his  time  and  country  all 
they  were  capable  of,  ancl  Portugal  became  his  as  he 
made  it.     liyron,  in  liis  l)rilliant  defence  of  Pope — who 
even  at  this  day  rises  higher  au'l  higher  in  ])roj)ortion 
as  lie  is  assailed — says:   "  He  whocan  reconcile  j)oetry 
with  truth  arid  wisdom  is  tlie  only  true  i)oet  in  its  real 
sense-,  the  maker,  IIk-  creator";  and  this  Camoens  did, 
an<l  ])1;m  <<1   hims'if  in    lliat  gnat  grou})  around  which 
stands  that  mnltilude  who  have  laid  their  offerings  on 
the  altar  erected  to  their  inspired  brethren,  and  h.avc 
done  the  best  tluy  could   to  keej)  step  to  the   music  of 
their  great  leaders  and  captains. 

3'ut  Coimbta  has  other  objects  of  interest  besides  the 
luiiversity.  Go  where  you  will  in  Portugal,  you  will 
fnid  that  somelxjdy  has  been  there  before,  and  .some- 


COIMBRA.  109 

body  of  so  much  importance  that  he  and  his  deeds 
cannot  be  forgotten  even  in  the  midst  of  the  hfe  im- 
mediately around  you.  The  morning  papers  of  Lisbon 
have  hardly  yet  ceased  their  articles  on  tlie  death  of  the 
king  and  his  imposing  funeral,  and  the  extraordinary 
speech  of  the  Cardinal  Patriarch  as  he  swung  the  in- 
cense and  sprinkled  the  holy  water  on  the  coffin  of  the 
monarch,  calling  for  the  j)rayers  of  the  faithful  on  his 
Majesty  who,  in  spile  of  the  absolution  of  the  Nuncio, 
was  still  in  Purgatory.  If  one  could  only  find  a  file  of 
the  Coimbra  Daily  yotirnal  (if  there  was  such  a  paper) 
of  November  ii,  13S7,  he  might  undoubtedly  read  the 
following,  reported  for  that  faithful  chronicler  of  the 
little  passing  events  of  that  day  : 

"  vSad  TRAGi;nv. — Our  readers  will  be  pained  to  hear 
that  our  beloved  Princess  Dona  Maria  Tellcs,  the  sis- 
ter of  Dona  Leonor  Telles,  whose  conduct  has  not 
1)een  quite  satisfactory'  to  her  husband,  King  Dom  Fer- 
nando I.,  was  murdered  b\-  her  husband,  Dom  John, 
the  son  of  the  unfortunate  Inez  de  Castro,  and  thus 
another  nnha])py  tragedy  has  been  added  to  the  history 
of  the  ro}aI  family.  The  mairiage  of  Dona  Telles,  a 
secret  alliance,  with  Dom  Jol;n  ha«l  aroused  the  anger 
of  her  sister,  the  (lueen,  and  she  cheiished  vengeance 
in  her  he:ut.  It  was  easy  for  her  to  rouse  the  ambition 
of  ]  )()m  John,  by  j)romising  him  the  hand  of  her  daugh- 
ter and  a  i)ath  to  the  tlirone  were  he  free,  even  to  the 
point  of  nnirder  in  his  own  family.  Dona  Maria  had 
been  a  g(jod  wife,  and  \)<.)\\\  John  had  been  a  happy 
husband.  Hut  then  a  st-at  U])on  the  throne  !  Tlie 
Prince  Dom  John,  unmindful  that  the  prince  should 
be  secondary  to  the  husband  and  father,  invited  many 


110  A  Vr.AR  !N  F'OI'TrGAL 

of  our  most  lioiu^rable  aiul  Christian  nobility  to  a  ban- 
quet at  wliich  the  princess  was  not  present.  As  the 
evening  wore  away  slie  retired  to  her  royal  and  virtu- 
ous couch.  As  the  banquet  went  on,  Doin  John  became 
more  and  more  excited,  until  he  announced  to  his 
friends  that  he  susp-ected  his  wife  of  infidelity  and  he 
proposed  to  remove  her  forthwith  bj-  death.  The  jour- 
ney to  Coimbra  was  short.  To  reach  his  palace  was 
but  the  work  of  a  moment,  and  the  door  of  the  princess' 
chamber  yielded  at  once  to  the  mad  and  furious  attack 
of  the  Prince.  The  tender-hearted  attendant  friends  of 
the  infuriated  husband  wept  and  fainted  while  the 
Infante  stabbed  his  helpless  wife,  reiterating  stab  \ipon 
stab  until  she  fell  weltering  in  her  blootl  and  calling  on 
her  >Saviour  for  mercy.  The  .scene  is  said  to  have  been 
most  heartrending,  and  adds  another  tragical  chapter 
to  th.e  history  of  that  distressed  family  of  wliich  the 
mother  of  Dom  John,  Inez,  de  Castro,  was  a  member. 

"  W'e  are  told  that  the  Infante  has  fled  the  city  and 
will  rem.iin  abroad  luitil  his  errors  are  forgotten — or 
perl'.ajis  to  wear  away  his  life  in  the  forests  of  Galli/.a. 
We  trust  .and  Ix.lieve  the  I,ord  will  h.ave  mercy  on  his 
.soul.  W'e  cannot  too  strongly  express  our  regret  that 
.such  a  sad  event  has  occurred  in  our  comnuinity." 

This  article  from  the  ancient  Coimbra  Daily  Journal 
must  have  Ijcen  read  with  great  pain  by  the  citizens  of 
the  city  wlio  loved  their  coinitry,  were  proud  of  their 
government,  and  had  great  faith  in  and  devotion  to  the 
ruling  family.  I  liavc  looked  in  vain  for  aii  account  of 
•  the  funeral  of  the  inifortunate  Princt;ss.  I  have  not 
cared  to  ascertain  the  exact  fate  of  him  who  was  called 
the  inifortunate  Prince. 


COIMBRA.  Ill 

Coimbra   is   famous   not  only  for  its  tragedies  but 
for  its  beauties  and  solcnuiities.     Its  Botanic  Garden  is 
famous  the  Avorld  over,  and  under  soniewhat  adverse 
circumstances  of  climate  really  vies  with  the  vales  of 
^fontscrrate.     The   river    Mondego    flows    through  a 
most  beautiful  countr)-,  a  bright  and  sparkling  stream 
in  sunnner-timc,  and  a  raging  torrent  in  winter,  destroy- 
ing all  before  it.     It  is  renowned  for  its  destructive 
floods,  and  for  centuries  has  swept  away  from  time  to 
time  the  habitations  men  liave  erected  on   its  banks. 
Still   the   population  runs  its  chances,   and,   perhaps, 
enjoN-s  the  dangerous  adventure.    Nature  on  a  rampage 
has  great  fascination.    The  hills  on  which  Coimbra  sits 
are  some  of  the  most  pictures([ue  in  Portugal,  and  the 
city,  like  all  others  which   sit  upon   a  hill,  has  great 
natural  as  well  as  artificial  charms.     It  has  a  bridge 
also, — and  a  city  with  a  background  of  moinitains,  a 
surface  of  hills  and  valleys,  a  river,  and  a  l)ridge,  has 
almost  everything  recpiired  to  make  it  perfect.    A  bridge 
with  an  event,  moreover,  is  a  great  treasure.     Coimbra 
lias  such  an  one,  famous  not  only  for  its  anticpiity  but 
for  its  historic  and  significant  procession,  which  started 
out  in  1423,  when  the  plague  was  raging  in   the  city, 
under  the  leadership  of  \'incente  Marlins,  who  made  a 
vow  that  if  he  and  his  five  sons  were  sa\-ed   from  the 
contagion    by   the   intercession  of  the  fi\e  martvrs  of 
Morocco,  he  would  visit  the  Convent  of  i^anla  Cm/. 
annually,  where  their  relics  reposed,  going  in  solemn 
procession,  naked  from  the  waist  upwards.     The  devo- 
tion became  very  popular  ;  the  number  of  penitents  who 
joined  the  procession  increased  largely,  until  it  reached 
nearly  three  hundred,  old  and  young.     Some  in  drawers 
only,  so!ne  girt  about  with  a  napkin,  marching  through 


112  A  yi:ak  in  vomvGM. 

the  most  ]x)pulous  streets  across  the  bridge  to  the 
convent,  wiiere  a  sermon  was  preached  to  this  ancient 
Salvation  Army.  In  1555,  a  bishop  of  Coimbra  snp- 
pressed  the  procession  and  the  plague  retnrned  with 
inuisnal  violence.  The  ceremony  was  re-estal)lished, 
and  was  conlinned  until  the  eighteenth  centur>',  when 
it  was  fnially  abolished  by  IJishop  Dom  Francisco  de 
Lemos.  I  am  not  aware  that  anything  of  similar 
interest  has  taken  its  place  ;  bnt  the  bridge  is  there  all 
ready  for  the  rare  display,  and  I  doubt  not  more  visitors  . 
would  throng  Coimbra  on  the  i6lh  of  January  to  view 
it,  than  could  be  tempted  by  any  ceremony  within  the 
classic  walls  of  the  university. 

It  is  usually  considered  that  the  attractions  of  Coim- 
bra c-an  be  exhausted  in  a  day,  lUit  if  the  Church  of 
Santa  Cruz,  with  its  remarkable  history,  its  (pieer  art, 
and  its  impressi\e  arc-h.iteclnre  ;  and  the  old  Cathedral, 
where  the  Master  of  Avi/,  was  crowned  king  inider  the 
titleof  l)(jmJohn  I.;  and  the  Ouintadasl^agrimas,  where 
Inez,  de  Castro  was  mur<lered  ;  and  the  Monastery  of 
ySanta  Clara,  are  all  ttj  be  visited,  rooms  may  be  ])rofit- 
ably  taken  at  the  tolerable  hotel,  Mondego,  for  many 
days.  Coindjra  is  as  well  worth  exjiloring  as  any  town 
in  the  peninsula. 

The  return  to  Lis'oou  leads  through  Pombal,  about 
thirty  miles  from  Coimbra,  and  one  of  the  representative 
towns  of  the  kingdom.  rom])al  is  a  great  name  in 
Portuguese  history,  as  great  as  that  of  Gambetta  in 
France,  or  Castelar  in  vSpain,  or  Gladstone  in  I-'nglaml 
in  our  day,  or  as  Wolsey  and  Richelieu  in  former  times 
-  perh.'ips  as  Jefferson  and  IlaTuiltou  and  Washington 
combined  in  one.  He  has  been  likened  to  liismarck, 
whom   Senator   Ilo.ir  .seems  to    think    is    the   greatest 


rOMBAL  113 

statesman  of  modem  times,  because  he  is  in  favor  of  a 
protective   tarifT.     Pombal  had  a  smaller  territor>'  to 
control  and  a  vcr\'  difierent  fonn  of  civilization  to  deal 
with,     lie  had  a  peoi)le  accnstonied  to  violent  commo- 
tions, fed  on  shaq)  traditions,  taught  in  a  severe  school. 
And   he   had   a   coinitry   in   which  insurrections  and 
earth(|nakcs  divided  the  attention  of  mankind.     The 
story  of  his  life  is  most  interesting,  and  may  be  given 
in  full,  according  to  the  usually  accepted  journal  style, 
so  important  was  he  to  the  country  of  his  birth  and 
ser\ice.     His  name  was  Scbasti;\o  Jose   de   Carxalho 
Mello,  Maujuis  of  Pombal.     lie  was  bom  in  I.isbon  in 
1699,  studied  at  Coimbra,  and  having  entered  the  army, 
in  which,  however,  he  remained  but  a  short  time,  was 
appointed  to    a    post    in    the    diplomatic    service.     He 
distinguished  liimsclf  as   Minister  to  London  ;  theiicc 
he  was  sent  to  Vienna,  where  he  most  successfully  acted 
as  mediator  between  the  Austrian  Government  and  the 
Holy  See.    Returning  to  Portugal,  on  the  death  of  Horn 
John  v.,  he  was  called  by  the  new  king,  Dom  Jose,  to 
a  seat  in  the  cabinet  ;  and  henceforth,  during  the  rest 
of  that  monarch's  life  and  reign,  he  devoted  himself  to 
the  regeneration  of  his  country-  by  a  .series  of  the  most 
useful  and  vigorous  reforms,    Tlie  great  earthquake  of 
November  i,  1755.  placed  hir.:  in  the  most  trying  circum- 
stances that  ever  befell  a  minister  ;  but  his  indomitable 
energy  overcame  all  diflicullies,  and  he  conuneiiced  the 
restoration  of  the  almost  ruined  capital  on  the  magnifi- 
cent plan,  which,  owing  to  his  death,  was  unfortunately 
never  entirely  completed.     The  concise  reply  said  to 
have  been  made  on  this  occasion  to  the  King,  wlieti 
Dom  Jose  nunirnfully  in(piired  what  was  to  be  done,  is 
certainly    characteristic   of  tlie    self-possession    of  the 


114  A  YRAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

man:  "Bury  the  dead,   and  feed   the   living."     For 
fourteen  days  and  nights  he  lived,  so  to  speak,  in  his 
carriage,  going  from  one  part  of  the  smoking  ruins  to 
another,  issuing  edicts  to  preserve  order  and  guard  the 
inhabitants  from  the  robbers  wliom  the  carth(|uakc  had 
set  free.     It  was  owing  to  his  firnniess  that  the  seat  of 
government  was  not  then  transferred  to  Rio  de  Janeiro. 
Among  the  most  important   measures  of  his  ministry 
we  may    mention  the   expulsion   of  the  Jesuits ;  the 
curbing  of  the  much-abused  power  of  the  lucpiisilion, 
whose   authority  he   reduced  to  tliat  of  an  ordinar>' 
tribunal,  subject  to  royal  jurisdiction  ;  the  establish- 
ment of  manufactories  througliout  the  coiuitry  ;    the 
regeneration  of  the  colonies  ;  the  abolition  of  slavery, 
declaring  that  all  .slaves  on  touching  rortuguese  soil 
were  free  ;  the  restoration  of  conuncrce  ;  and,  in  a  word, 
the  vast  ref<jrms  by  which  he  was  enabled  to  raise  his 
country    from    a   state   of  ruin    and    insignificiuice   to 
opulence  and  an   honorable  position  among   the  king- 
doms  of    luirope.      The    just   appreciation    of    these 
measures  by  statesmen  of  the  present  day  has  rendered 
the  name  of  the  great  Marquis  revered  and  honored 
not  only  by  his  fellow-countrymen  but  by  ICurope  in 
general.     In   Portugal  he  is  always  spoken  of  as  the 
wise   statesman,  the  undaunted  minister  ;    and  every 
intelligent  Portuguese,  when  he  speaks  of  the  present 
comparative   decline  of  his  cotmtry,  breathes  a  wish 
that  such  a  man  could  again  be  found  to  luidertake  its 
government  and  revive  its  former  prosperity. 

On  the  death  of  Dom  Jose,  Pombal  renewed  a  pre- 
vious request  to  be  exonerated  from  ofllce,  alleging  his 
advanced  age  and  infirm  state  of  health.  Dom  Jose 
had  refused  it,  but  Dona  Maria  I.   granted  his  petition 


POMBAU  Its 

and  allowed  him  to  retire  with  all  his  appointments, 
besides  conferring  on  him  some  additional  honors.  But 
the  priests  and  Jesuits,  whom  he  had  certainly  taken 
no  i')ains  to  conciliate,  would  not  allow  him  to  enjoy 
them  in  peace,  and  the  Queen  ere  long  suffered  herself 
to  be  influenced  by  them.  The  aged  statesman  was 
banished  to  the  town  of  Pombal,  and  there  persecuted 
l)y  harassing  examinations.  Finally,  after  much  suffer- 
ing, he  died  at  that  place,  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty- 
six.  In  the  centre  of  what  is  now  called  Black  Horse 
Square,  on  account  of  an  equestrian  statue  of  Dom  Josd 
I.,  erected  in  1775,  in  gratitude  to  the  King  and  Pombal 
for  their  energy  in  rebuilding  the  city,  there  was  placed 
the  effigy  of  the  powerful  Minister.  Not  long  after, 
Ihis  effigy  was  destroyed  by  the  populace,  who  recalled 
the  tyranny  of  Pombal  while  in  office.  In  1833,  how- 
ever, by  order  of  Dom  Pedro,  the  tribute  to  his  memorj'' 
was  restored,  and  now  adorns  the  monument. 

Pombal  would  not  have  found  opportunity  for  his 
peculiar  qualities  except  in  a  land  of  earthquakes,  and 
Jesuits,  and  conspirators,  or  suspects,  or  civil  contests, 
or  extravagance,  or  great  wealth,  or  great  poverty.  In 
youth  and  early  manhood  he  was  one  of  the  graceless 
disturbers  of  Lisbon.  He  had  immense  forces,  and  was 
ready  at  all  times  to  use  them  for  good  or  evil  as  cir- 
cinnslances  i)resented  a  tempting  opportunity.  His 
will  was  law.  He  filled  the  exhausted  coffers  of  his 
country  by  tithes,  taxes,  and  trade,  which  would 
almost  be  denominated  rapine  in  the  laws  of  Christian 
commonwealths.  He  suspected  the  Duke  of  Aveiro 
and  the  Mnnpiis  of  Tavora  of  conspiracy  against  the 
K'ug,  on  grounds  so  slender  that  history  is  still  in 
doubt  wliether  he  was  authorized  to  consider  whatever 


116  A  VliAR  IN  I'(jKTU(jAL. 

movcnicnt  there  was   anything  iiKjrc   than  a   protest 
against  liis  own  imperious  tyranny,  and  witli  an  incred- 
ible refinement  of  cruelty  tore  them  from  their  faniihes, 
ordered   tliem   to    public  execution    and  most  savage 
torture,  l>urned  their  Ijodies  with  the  scaffi^ld  on  which 
they  ])erished,  and  cast  their  ashes  into  the  sea.     He 
was  inhuman  and  unscrupulous,  and  when  he  died  his 
system  of  trade  was  abandoned,  th.e  sentences  against 
his  victims  were  annulled,  their  innocence  proclaimed, 
and  their  imprisoned  companions  set  free.      Ilis  .auda- 
cious career  marks  so  imposing  a  period  in  Portuguese 
liistory  that   his  name  is  still  cherished   as  tli.it  of  a 
demigod,  an<I  it  is  cnon>.',h  t"  fix  the  d.ite  of  historic 
events  to  s;iy  they  occuiied  1)<  foic  PouiImI's  time.      To 
hispcoplc  Ik;  may  beahiio,  and  liiscareer  !u  loic,     P.ut 
his  exam[)le  is  a  misfortune,  his  methods  could  not  be 
peri>etunted,  his  deeds  of  jjhilanthropy  were  hardly  an 
offset  to  his  cruelty  and  imi)eri<jusness.     }  le  left  nothing 
behind    liim   which   has  ])assed   into  the  glory  of  his 
cotintry  e\cei>t  the  rebuilding  of  a  stricken  city  and  the 
free<loin  of  the  slaves.    It  is  i)ossiblc  that  I'ortugal,  im- 
poverished ami  mined  by  the  folly  and  extravagance  of 
Doni  John  \'.,  might  but  for  Pombal  have  passed  under 
the  rule  of  Spai:i.     And  when  lie  checked  the  power  of 
the  Clnirch,  and  exj)elled  the  Jesuits,  he  removed  the 
greatest  o])Stacle  to  the  exercise  of  his  own   imperial 
sway,  which  he  exerted  to  save  liis  country  and  control 
liis  feeble  and  vncillating  monarch.     He  made  himself 
the  ruler,  and  lie  accomj)lished  his  object  not  by  the 
exercise  of  a  broad  and  far-.seeing  statesmanshi]),  but 
by  the  adoption  of  temporary  and  not  always  scrupulous 
exi)edients.     His  life  was  endi-d  in  exile  and  disgrace, 
and  his  system  died  with  liim. 


TIIOMAR.  tl7 

To  get  from  the  town  of  Pombal  to  Lisbon  or  Ciiitra, 
you  must  pass  through  ThomaraiKlSantarcm,  not  very 
important  places  it  is  true,  hut  representative  of  the 
career  of  this  countrj*.  Thomar  has  an  enormous  con- 
vent of  course,  and  it  is  an  interesting  one  and  was 
quite  unrivalled  in  Kurope.  The  Templars  settled  in 
Thomar  in  the  time  of  Dona  Theresa,  and  there  they 
lived  and  fought  the  Moors  and  received  a  third  of  all 
the  laii'ls  received  from  them.  The  castle  of  C.ualdim 
I'aes,  the  Master  of  the  Templars,  still  reUiiius,  owned 
by  the  Count  of  Thomar.  There  is  the  largest  bell  in 
Portugal  hanging  in  the  belfr>-  of  the  chapter-house, 
with  the  longest  I.atiu  inscription  ku'twti.  And  more 
than  fill  tluie  is  a  cotton  fictory  tunler  the  manage- 
m(  nt  of  an  ]'"n^',lishinan,  witli  other  intciior  milK,  on  a 
li\ely  little  stream  which  llows  through  a  beautiful 
valley. 

Aiul  when  Thomar  is  lift  Santarem  is  soon  reached, 
the  last  stand  of  Doni  Miguel  in  1^33,  and  where  he 
learned  that  he  was  not  wanted  in  Portugal.  It  is  a 
])relty  i>Ia<'e,  and  is  also  attractive  to  the  ecclesiologist 
and  to  the  arclueohjgist.  I'nt  the  most  interesting  f  ict 
connected  with  it,  to  m\'  mind,  is  its  name.  Few  tirwns 
derive  their  names  from  such  an  impressive  source.  I  am 
ha])py  to  say.  S.  Irene  had  taken  the  veil  at  Xabamia, 
now  Thomar,  and  was  falsely  accused  by  kemigio, 
a  monk  who  had  fallen  violently  in  love  with  lier, 
of  incontinency.  She  was  in  conscfpience  put  to  death, 
a  common  occurrence  in  her  time,  and  her  body  was 
thrown  into  the  Nabao,  ]>robal)ly  that  pretty  little 
industrial  stream  to  which  I  ha\e  just  alluded.  Hence 
it  floated  down  into  the  Zeiere  and  by  the  Zerere  into 
the  Tagus,  tuilil   it  reached  this  spot,  where  her  iiuio* 


118  A  VI:AK  in  I'fiRTUGAL. 

cc'iicc  was  proved  by  miraculf)vis  a])i)arition  and  where 
she  was  hiiried  with  great  hoiujr  in  llie  chiireh,  and 
the  town  was  named  afler  her. 

The  Hheration  of  Saiitareni  from  tlie  >roors  in  1147  is 
a  great  cinsocle  5ji  I'ortugnese  history.  It  was  aeconi- 
plislied  by  I)om  Affonsf)  Iknri'iues,  l)y  a  stralageJii  in 
whicli  he  nolified  tlie  Moors  that  an  existing  truce  was 
sns]»endcd  fcjr  lliree  days,  (hiring  wliicli  tiMK.-he  marched 
fn>m  Coimlir.i,  made  a  \'o\v  that  if  successful  ]ic  wouhl 
tii'low  the  Ci^-t<rri;iiis  witli  Ihc  ^vh'»l(•  ti;i<t  <,\'  ^•(Mnilry 
fioiii  I  111'  S'  I  ra  t'»  III'-  ,'.<■; I.  In  <  on ■.'■(! ti<ii<(  of  t  Iii  \  now, 
|irob;ilily,  lie  Inol;  the  <ity  wilh  h<:ding  l;i<ld<|:t,  dis- 
h»d;M<l  lh<;  M<)<>rs,  and  foinidid  yMcubara.  This  dc-ed 
has  be'ii  considcnd  a  jiailof  the  ])'ntry  i>f  war,  and 
ranks  wilh    Ivvy  an<l  Jhud.er  Jlill. 

The  way  from  tlie  theology  and  war  of  Santarem 
to  TJsbon  or  Cin'.ra  is  easy.  \\'e  made  our  trip  to 
Cintra  and  the  Ibjtel  Lawrence.  The  days  were 
.still  charming,  llie  nights  resplendent  with  the 
fullest  moon  I  li.id  ever  witnesse(h  It  was  St. 
M;irtin's  sunniier,  the  Indian  summer  of  America 
made  more  summery  by  the  warm  air  of  Portugal. 
St.  Martin's  day,  moreover,  was  being  celebrated 
by  the  jovial  sons  of  Cintra,  A  rural  IJacdnis  was 
borne  through  the  streets,  (uvcloped  with  vines  ;uid 
crowned  with  clusters,  the  lu  ro  of  the  \Mnlios,  who 
couM  carry  off  more  Colhura  in  a  day  than  any  other 
frcpi'-nt'  r  of  the  wine  ,^hop;.,  jlis  noi-.y  <'on.ii>anions 
bote  him  in  tt  iumjih  to  the  jdateau  in  front  of  Setiaes, 
where  an  out-door  riv<  1  orcujiied  the  afternoon.  Cheer- 
ftd  .and  happy  and  elated,  the  disciples  (jf  IJaeehus 
returned  towanl  evening,  the  king  of  the  festival  still 
retaining  his  reputation,  and  the  efiects  of  his  example 


CINTRA.  119 

manifest  among  his  followers.  As  they  passed  by  the 
hotel  a  small  donkey  was  letting  Ins  heels  fly  indis- 
criminalely  into  the  crowd,  who  showed  a  noble  indiffer- 
ence to  his  attacks.  Tlie  snn  went  down,  the  moou 
rose,  and  the  festival  was  over. 


CIIAPTHR,  VII. 

Till:  IIF:UOHS  AND  fJAI^UHNS  OI-  CINTKA. 

Noirnihr  2Slh. — The  season  iti  Ciiitra  is  over  ;  the 
air  is  ;;ro\viiij^  too  cool  f')r  cvMiifort  without  fires  ;  the 
streets  do  not  r'.ry  re.uhly  after  ri  shower  ;  the  heavy 
mists  <lrivc  11])  fn^ni  the  sea  and  becloud  the  hill-tops  ; 
and  altlKni^h  the  foli:!_t;e  still  ad<jrns  most  of  the  forests 
the  trees  liave  lost  their  Ir.xuriance,  and  one  is  obliged 
to  recognize  the  a])proach  f)f  a  feeble  winter,  witliout 
frosts  to  glisten,  and  sncnvdrifls  to  beautify,  and  tliut 
fascinating  music  of  the 

"...     nisliiti;^  of  tile  blast, 
Whirli  tlirouLjli  the  snowy  valley  flies." 

The  alternative  of  Cintra  is  IJsbon,  and  as  Lisbon  is 
all  Portuguese,  so  is  Cir.tra.  To  the  most  charming 
watering-[)lace  in  the  world  strangers  do  not  come;  in 
the  most  ])ietures'jue  city  in  I'!uro])e,  with  a  genial 
climate  and  beautiful  .sccmer)  and  cipacious  harlKjr 
and  convenient  I'K-ation,  travellers  an'l  merchants  and 
]»leasure-seekers  do  n<A  congregate,  'i'he  dwellers  in 
this  region  go  to  Cintra  in  smnmer  and  to  Li^bc^n  in 
winter.     And  so  lo-tnorrow  we  go  to  Lisbon. 

To  lea\e  Cintra  with  nothing  more  than  an  allusion 
to  its  hills  and  wales  and  forests  aixl  palaces  and  (jiiin- 
ias  and  views,  is  not  sufficient  to  one  who  has  i)assed 

I20 


THE  HCROES  AND  GARDENS  OF  CINTRA.  12t 

many  summer  months  there  and  has  become  familiar 
with  all  its  charming  characteristics,  its  nature  and  art. 
The  grandeur  of  the  Rock  of   Lisbon,   standing  out 
from  the  level  shore's  of  Portugal,  a  towering,  ragged 
clifT,  toni  and  embrowned  by  storms  and  driving  surfs, 
split  into  fragments  and  burrowed  l)y  the  beating  ocean 
into  caves,  has  been   the  sailors'   landmark  for  many 
a  thous.'uid  years,  a  dark  and  gloomy  witness  of  the 
splendid  a'-liieveinents  and  sad  disasters  of  the  land  to 
whicli  it  belongs.     And  this  is  the  begiiming  of  the 
rocky   strra,    stretching    from  the  .seaside  far   inland, 
known  as  Cintra.     Nature  hasconnnenced  her  impos- 
ing work  in  moderate  proportions  at  the  .seaside,  and 
has  increased  in  magnitude  and  grandeur  as  she  has 
passed  on,  until  she  has  reached  the  great  conical  peaks 
crowned  with  boulders,  and  the  deep  vales  which  sun- 
light hardly  reaches,  and  in  wild  beauty  the  monument 
stands  pointing  to  the  vast  forces  which  toiled  at  the 
creation.     Tliat  this  .strange  pile  is  an  upheaval  of  the 
primary  rocks  through  strata  of  limestone  and  .sand- 
.stone  there  is  no  doubt — at  least  in  the  mind  of  the 
unscientific  believer.     The  dip  of  the  strata,  the  pres- 
ence of  solid  granite  boulders  in  loose  sandstone,  the 
half-solidified  heaps  of  drift,  the  abrupt  precipice,  the* 
ragged  slopes,— all  tell  of  those  great  convulsions  which 
bnjught  into  existence  the  features  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face ;  and  crowning  the  peaks,  piled  one  above  another, 
preserved   in  their  places  by  their  immovable  weight, 
.sfjine  lying  sidelong  and  .some  perched  on  end,  an  accu- 
mulation   (jf  boulders,  thousands  of  tons   in   weight, 
brought  along  and  gently  deposited  in  that  arctic  period 
of  the  earth's  history  when  the  seas  and  the  zones  were 
wrought  into  their  present  places.     The  work  of  the 


122  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

glacial  period  is  visible  in  all  its  grandeur.     Ice  and 
the  earthquake  have  done  here  their  jierfect  work. 

Cintra  has  borne  au  important  part  in  the  histor>'  of 
Portugal,  not  so  much  on  accoujit  of  the  active  force  it 
has  displayed  in  the  great  and  critical  events  of  the 
kingdou),  as  on  account  of  the  retreat  it  lias  furnished 
those  \»'ho  have  been  engaged  in  great  scenes  enacted 
during  centuries  of  labor  and  conflict.  When  I,isbon 
was  made  the  headquarters  of  tlie  Carthaginian  legions 
in  the  wars  against  Rome  and  her  supremacy  in  the 
Ilx-rian  Peninsula,  Cintra  was  a  fivorile  resort  for  the 
conquerers.  And  when  the  Roman  eagles  had  again 
perched  on  the  Lusitanian  hills,  the  charms  of  Cintra 
were  counted  among  the  sweetest  rewards  of  the  victo- 
rious leaders.  The  Goths  followed  with  their  wild  love 
of  nature,  their  indei)endent  spirit,  their  love  of  liberty, 
and  for  two  hundred  }ears  the  \'isigoth  kings  .scaled 
the  heights  and  rested  in  the  valleys  of  Cintra  until 
the  followers  of  Mahomet  subdued  and  ravaged  the 
country  they  had  taken  b\-  sur])rise  and  conquered  by 
treachery,  and  had  inaugurated  three  centuries  of  con- 
flict between  themselves  and  the  Christian  possessorsof 
the  soil,  in  whi<li  Charlemagne  took  a  hand,  and  at  the 
close  of  which  the  fust  Christian  monarch  of  I'ortugal, 
Dom  y\ff()iisr)  Ileiuiques,  was  sealed  on  the  llinMK',  and 
cnished  a  fierce  and  bloody  MoDrisli  re1)ellion.  It  was 
from  the  mountains  cif  Cintra  that  this  monarch  discov- 
ered the  great  fleet  of  JCnglish,  l'"renrh,  and  P'lemings 
who  were  on  their  way  to  the  Holy  I,;md  to  redeem  the 
Holy  Sepulchre,  and  whom  he  induced  to  join  him  in 
relieving  Lisbon  from  Moorish  rule.  And  it  was  to 
Cintra  that  he  repaired  to  rejoice  over  that  great  victor}' 
in  which  20<'j,cxx)  Moors  fell  in  one  day,  on  the  spot 


THE  HEROES  AND  GARDENS  OF  CINTRA.  123 

occupied  by  the  church  "  Nossa  Scnhora  dos  Martyres  " 
iu  Lisbon.  In  Cintra  the  Moorish  kings  liad  built  their 
Alhanibra,  and  when  in  1385,  more  than  two  hundred 
years  after  this  great  siege,  Lisbon  was  made  the  head 
of  the  Christian  govennnent,  this  Moorish  palace  be- 
came the  favorite  residence  of  the  Portuguese  monarchs ; 
and  here,  in  1SS9,  the  American  Minister  was  received 
by  Dom  Luis  L,  who  had  resorted  hither  iji  search  of 
health  but  a  few  weeks  before  he  died  at  Cascaes. 
From  the  time  when  Dom  John  L  dedicated  this 
ancient  l)uilding  to  the  royal  service  of  Christian  Portu- 
gal, Cintra  has  been  most  intimately  cotmectcd  with  the 
great  events  of  the  kingdom.  Prom  lier  heights  where 
Aflonso  IIenri(iues  saw  the  aiiproaching  fleet  of  the  Cru- 
saders, Dom  Manoel  saw  nearly  five  hundred  >ears  later 
the  fleet  of  Vasco  de  Gama  returning  from  his  great 
voyage  of  discovery  in  tlie  P'ast  Indies.  Here  Dom 
Sebastian  held  his  coinicil  of  noblemen  who  decided  in 
157S  in  favor  of  the  fatal  expedition  to  Africa  in  which 
kings  and  nobles  perished  and  the  power  of  Portugal 
was  broken.  And  as  },ears  rolled  on  and  Aflonso  VI. 
perished  in  miserable  confinement,  and  the  heart  of 
John  de  Castro  had  been  sent  lu^me  from  India  to  be 
buried  at  IVna  \'erde,  and  great  enteqtrises  had  been 
organized  and  great  wars  fought  out,  the  time  arrived 
when  the  coinage  of  W'ellinglon  was  flisplased  on  the 
battle-field,  and  jiis  wisdom  was  manifest  in  the  conven- 
tion at  Cintra,  which  terminated  in  the  withdrawal  of 
the  I'rench  trof)ps  from  the  Peninsula,  where  but  for 
Ivnglish  valor  and  Ivnglish  sagacity  they  might  have 
gained  a  foothold  not  easily  broken. 

I   have   already  referred    to   the   interesting  history 
which  gathers  arouml  the  convents   and   ca.stles  and 


124  A  YLAK  IN  I'OKTl'GAL. 

palaces    of    Cinlra — the    Royal    Palace,    the    Moorish 
Castle,  the  Maria! va   Palace  the  vSetiacs  of  to-day,  the 
I'ena  Verde  of  John  de  Castro,   the  Cork  Convent  of 
the  hermit  Ilonorius,  the  Pena  lyOnga.     IJutthis  is  not 
all    of  Ciiitra.     Tlie   gardens  jjlanted   along  the  hill- 
sides mid  in  the  valleys  are  filled  with   beauty.     ICven 
the  streets  and  paths  which  lead  to  them  are  bordered 
with    geraniums   and    wild    roses,    and   the   beds   and 
hedges  are  filled  with  plants  and  shrubs  which  blossom 
almost  every  month  in  the  year.     The  garden  of  the 
Srddanha  \'illa,  that  of  the  Pena  Palace,  that  above  the 
Chamii;o  \'illa,  and  the  bosky  dells  of  Pena  Verde  and 
the  Posoes  Quinta,  and  the  warm  little  plateaus  of  the 
Regeleira   and   the   Prince's  villa,  where  the  Praziliau 
pine  grows   tall   and   tlie    palm    spreads  out    in  great 
luxuriance,  and  the  sunny  corners  where  the  groves  of 
orange  and  lemon  blossom  and  bear  fruit  continually, 
are  full  of  beauty  both  of  nature  and  art.     The  streets 
whicli    wiiul    llirough    them    and    mount    the    highest 
I)eaks,  bounded  on  either  hand  by  solid  walls  of  rough 
stones  and  a  cemented  surface  whieh  only  the    Portu- 
guese  know   how   to   build,    are   of  themse-l\-es  pictu- 
res(jue,  and  temjit  one  to  many  a  long  and  exhausting 
stroll.     There   are   vineyards  everywhere,  clinging  to 
the  rocky  sides  of  the  clifTs,  and  planted  many  feet  deep 
in  tiie  sand,  where  their  roots  may  reach  the  hidden 
springs.     And  from  the  mountain  toi)S  flow  innumer- 
able ri\'ulets,  stealing   their  way  beneatli  the  surface, 
and  filling  the  stone  cisterns  which  are  built  along  the 
highways   for  the    t<jiling  animals,    and    alongside   of 
the  high  garden  walls  for  the  irrigation  of  the  trees 
and  plants  and  crops,  adorning  the  slopes,  and  cooling 
and  refreshing  the  .soil,  while  the  driving  mists  cover 
the  svirface  of  the  land  with  a  li\imr  green. 


Till":  lirROrS  AND  GARDCNS  OF  CINTRA.  12$ 

It  was  a  combination  of  l)cauty  and  natural  luxuri- 
ance which  gave   Cintra  its   attractions   in  the  early 
days,  and  made  it  the  resort  of  the  distinguished  men 
who  foundctl  the    greatness   of   Portugal,    and    which 
still   draws  men   unto   it.      And    the  centre   of  these 
charms  has  long  been  found  in  Montserrate,  an  elevated 
spot  from  which   the  l)eauty  of  the   landscape  towards 
the  sea  is  seen,  and  whose  backgrovmd  is  made  up  of 
the  luxuriant  hillsides  which  are   crowned   by  the  rug- 
ged and  rocky  peaks.      Prom  Montserrate  can  be  seen 
the  fniest  view  of  land  and  sea  and  fi)rest  and  moun- 
tain in  all  the  Iberian  Peninsula.     It  once  belonged  to 
the  De  Castro  family,  and  on  its  ridge  stood  the  chapel 
of  the   I.ady  of   Montserrate,  until    in    1750  or  there- 
abouts the   Brazilian  merchant  De  \'isme  removed  it 
and  built  a  house  on  the  .spot,  which  when  half  finished 
Ik'ckford  leased  and  completed, — Heckford,  whom  By- 
ron in    most  luieuphonious   phrase  calls    "  I\ngland's 
weallhiest  son,"  and  who  wrote  the  wild  aiul  extrava- 
gant and  voluptuous  and  cruel  pages  of  \'athek.    This 
strolling  \-oluptuary,  who  derived  a  vast   income  for 
years  from  ancestral  sugar  plantations  in  St.  Domingo, 
led  a  gay  life   in   the  fragile  building  which  he  con- 
structed,  for  a  few  years,  and   then  left  it  to  fall  into 
decay.      His  stable  and  stone  cow-sheds  still  remain; 
and     from    a    height     which     overlooks     the     uneven 
land,  his  cascade,  which  is  a  gentle  waterfall  in  sum- 
mer and   a  roaring    torrent   in  winter,  still  tells  of  his 
taste  and  skill.      All   else  is  changed  ;  and   the  ])alace 
and  garden   which   now  constitute  the  beauty  of   the 
place,  and  which   ha\e    no    connter])art,    have   added 
greatly  to  the  modern  fame  of  Cintra. 

ICven  in  decay  Montserrate  was  attractive  ;  and  when 
in   1S51   vSir  I'Vancis  Cook  ])urchaseil  the  estate  on  ac- 


126  A  YHAP  IN  I'ORTUGAL. 

count  of  its  liorticnlttiral  capacity  as  well  as  on  account 
of  tlic  1)cauty  of  tlic  scenery,  lie  recoy;iiize(l  liow  ni\ich 
nature  liad  clone  to  give  him  a  fit  locality  for  his  palace 
and  his  plants.  When  he  took  it,  the  slopes  from  the 
little  plateau  where  the  house  stands  were  covered 
with  orange  groves  and  cornfields.  The  agricultural 
features  were  removed  and  tree-planting  began.  lu  a 
little  more  than  thirty  years  the  gardeu  has  been  per- 
fected. The  climate  and  soil  in  that  small  territory' 
vary  almost  as  nuich  as  the  latitudes,  and  furnish  a 
genial  home  for  the  plants  of  the  temperate  belt  and 
the  tropics.  The  lawn,  always  well  watered  by  irrigation 
and  always  green,  slopes  from  the  palace  to  the  valley 
})elow,  and  while  it  is  crowned  with  pines  and  chest- 
nuts, nourislies  the  palm  .at  its  foot.  The  setting  of 
the  hillside  picture  is  a  sturdy  cork-forest  which  re- 
minds one  of  llie  weird  woods  in  J)ore"s  fantastic  land- 
.scai)es.  Heneath  the  trees  the  laurustinus,  broom, 
scrub  (jak,  ivy,  ])errwinkle,  »Solomon's  seal,  and  brac- 
ken flourish  Inxuriantly.  'iMie  trees  themselws  arc 
remaikable.  As  you  stand  on  tiie  terrace  and  turn 
your  eje  to  the  left  a  '/'/iioti'ii  Lohbii  over  eighty  feet 
\\\\\\\  conunands  your  attention,  and  behind  this  stand  a 
trdl  Jfa/rosidt n>s  robusla  and  a  wide-spreading  Juij^<)iia 
latifolia  of  great  height.  I'ar  down  the  .slope  stands 
a  gronp  of  giant  arauearias,  overtopped,  tall  as  they 
arc,  by  the  most  luxuriant  specimens  of  the  eucalyjjtus. 
Along  the  brook-side  are  callas,  bamboos,  the  ])apyrus, 
and  strelit/.ias  in  all  their  impressive  beauty  ;  and  in 
their  midst  a  huge  Oipnssns  macrocarpa  spreads  out 
like  an  ancient  oak. 

Along  a  path  leading  round  a  pretty  waterfall  is  an 
immense  variety  of  plants.     There  may  be  found  great 


TUn  HEROES  AND  GARDENS  OF  CINTRA.  127 

araiicarias,  and  llie  F.ryobotrya  Japofiica  spreading  its 
branches  thirty-three  yards  in  circuit.  Descending 
the  steps  to  the  Avalk  leading  to  the  falls  and  going 
along  the  other  side  of  the  ravine  may  be  seen  the 
foliage  of  high  palms,  the  finest  collection  in  the 
world.  Beneath  the  wall  on  the  left  are  the  C/ian//ucs 
J^iniians,  the  Fusrhia  licacina,  a  rare  and  beautiful 
plant  unkntnvn  to  northern  collections.  The  most 
prominent  of  tlie  palms  here  are  the  Saini/  tdiibraciili- 
/('m,  a  tree  six  feet  in  circumference,  and  the  immense 
Trachycarpus  /'"orhntii,  both  fine  specimens  of  these 
rare  plants.  On  the  right  side  is  an  .Irauain'a  cxalsa 
seventy  feet  high  and  eight  feet  in  the  circumference 
of  the  stem.  At  this  point  is  a  large  reservoir  for 
irrigation,  co\ered  with  creepers  and  maiden-hair 
ferns,  while  back  of  them  a  group  of  camellias  show 
their  gorgeous  flowers,  paths  with  ferns  above  and 
around  lead  up  to  the  chief  fidls,  and  the  Nile's  White 
IJly  adorns  the  banks  of  the  stream.  Lower  down 
the  stream  the  ferns  increase  and  a  fern-girt  arch- 
way, surmotn)le<l  by  yuccas  and  .'does  spans  the  path. 
Returning  to  the  walk  whence  we  diverged  to  see 
the  valley  of  the  tree-ferns,  we  cross  the  bridge  and 
pass  through  an  avenue  of  dicksonias  to  the  ruined 
Cluii)el  of  Our  I.ady,  which  was  ninoved  from  the  site 
of  the  palace  and  is  embowered  in  trees,  ivy  and  roses, 
which  cover  its  roof,  while  within  re]M)ses  an  ancient 
Ivlruscan  sarcojihagus.  The  view  of  the  ])alace  from 
this  point  up  the  lawn  is  ver\  fine.  Roses  clamber 
o\er  the  trees  in  great  profusion,  and  along  the  walls 
arc  trees  and  shrubs  remarkable  for  grace  and  beauty. 
This  division  of  the  garden  is  called  "  Mexico."  Here 
you  pass  down  the  steps  \nider  an  archway  of  Marechal 


12S  A  YI:AI'  in  I'dlTIicMl.. 

Nii'l  roses,  Ihroii^'li  j^roups  «>f  caiiifllijis,  tirciMfS  <jf 
hvcs,  willi  rli<»<]<i'kii(lroiis  :m<l  :i^:ivts,  1>;itjks  of  yuccas, 
Goa  cNpifsscs,  and  New  Zcalaiul  draccciias.  The 
brook  discloses  itself  from  lime  to  lime  Ihrough  a  lliick 
iiD'ler^rcjwih  of  arbulus,  heather,  i»eri\viiikle,  and  fox- 
^]o\e.  An  arhor  of  laurels  shelters  yon  for  a  moment, 
Down  the  stream  grow  palms,  New  Zealand  flax,  hajii- 
hoos,  aJifl  fahianas.  Passing  groves  of  oranges  and 
lemons  Ihe  brook  glides  on  and  empties  into  the 
Var/.en. 

Tlie  >c)uth  slo])ing  lawn  at  the  threshold  of  the 
Palacio  is  bomided  b>'  "Mexico,"  which  is  situated 
on  a  minor  ridge,  and  sheltered  (ui  the  west  by  a 
grou])  of  ])ine  trees.  Delicate  ]>alms,  such  as  PItnnix 
rc/inu/d,  /'.wt/iosfxrtn'j  .Uivitndta,  Coros  p/iniiosa  and 
W'lildi liaiKt,  the  IhniKi  />< /iiioritiia,  the  A'/io/xi/os/iv/is, 
are  phmted  here  ;  and  you.  go  thence  directly  into  a 
(kiise  growth  of  )'i(ti(i  J\u  nunlua  and  .li^nvc  Cfinira^ 
jW s<  in brya II (luni utit s  ;{\v\  (ia::<niia.s  fdl  up  all  the  spaces. 
Aloes  and  \iiccas  abouml  in  "  Mexico,"  as  well  as  dale 
palms,  and  many  tonler  plants  seldom  gnnvn  in  the 
oj>en  air  except  in  the  tropics.  Here  wc  find  Dniania 
/hiuos,  hirgc  cadi,  Dasyhtn'on  anal  rich  in  in,  Opiinfias 
(•(liiniitiii ,  /■jirfion's  i^iomliflora,  Dranriia  S/uppon/ii, 
Boiiapai l<(X  J  liiiim,  Pniimtlia  puUlifniiiia,  ;uid  I'irsia 
illaiiaipliylhi'i.  The  hillsi'le  above  is  covered  with 
ce<lar><,  Jiuuilypli ,  and  cork-lri.es. 

I  have  given  this  elaborate  list  of  ])lants,  which 
ends  here,  hardly  expecting  it  to  be  rea'l.  lUit  I  think 
they  ou^ht  to  be  recorded  ;  av.d  I  am  sure  it  will  l)e  as 
inlere^ting  to  other  horticulturists  as  it  was  to  the  Ivn- 
gli:-h  gardener  who  furnished  it  for  public  use. 

The  I'alacio  Montserrale  is  as  attractive  and  inter- 


Tin:  Illl'dlS  ANh  (lAKIJliNS  OV  CINTI'A.  129 

i'slin}(  as  Ihc  ^;ir«lcii.  Tin-  ori^'inal  ImiMinj^  wan 
creeled,  us  I  liave  said,  uboul  1750,  fell  into  decay,  and 
was  leased  and  repaired  by  l'>cckford,  who  occupied  it 
three  or  four  years,  and  then  abandoned  it  to  fate  and 
the  weather.  It  was  closed  in  1775  ;  and  liyron 
walked  the  ruined  hallh  in  iHio.  The  present  style  of 
the  building,  as  erected  b\'  vSir  hVancis  Cook,  who  cotu- 
ineiiced  the  restoration  in  1S57,  is  Venetian,  with  a 
Moorish  type  introduced.  It  stands  on  a  narrow 
plateau,  and  conunands  the  finest  view,  near  and  re- 
mote, to  be  found  in  Cinlra. 

The  palace  is  two  lunidred  feet  long,  with  a  beauti- 
ful circular  vcstilnile,  fniished  in  native  marbles,  at 
the  bout  ciilianrc  ;  and  w  ilh  a  handsome  side  entrance, 
opcniiiK  out  up<in  a  charjiiinj;  view  of  the  g-'i'^l^'U.  •'^'><1 
the  heavily  wooded  hills  bcNond.  A  laslcfully  enclosed 
terrace  surrounds  the  entire  building.  l'*roin  the  front 
vestibule  a  hall  extends  to  a  fine  nmsic  room  in  the 
rear,  and  is  divided  mid\\a>'  by  a  tasteful  court,  in 
which  a  marble  fountain  is  playing-  The  walls  of  the 
hall  are  finished  in  bermliful  tracery,  copied  after  the 
Alli.'unbra,  and  worked  with  the  most  delicate  taste 
and  skill.  The  pillars  of  the  hall  are  u-rought  from 
colored  marbks  of  great  beauty  found  on  the  estate  and 
in  other  parts  of  Cintra.  The  munerous  niches  along 
the  sides  of  the  hall  are  occupied  by  a  series  of  classic 
statues,  and  the  lofty  ceiling  is  finished  in  most  grace- 
ful designs. 

On  the  left,  as  the  hall  is  entered,  is  the  library,  a 
room  thirty  feet  loijg  by  twenty  wide  and  nineteen 
feet  high,  finished  in  wabnit.  with  a  door  in  high 
r</>()i(s.u'  work,  representing  Diau.i  in  the  cha<e,  taken 
from    an    Italian    palace.     The    lil>rary    contains    four 


1}()  A  yy.AU  IN  I'DI.'TIKIAI.. 

tliousnnd  voUuiks  of  sluiuhird  works  on  biography, 
history,  i>o(jlry.  ;m«l  tlioloKy.  i'>  I'orUij^ticsc,  rrencli, 
aii<l  v'^panish.  In  the  room  arc  a  iiuxk-l  of  the  statue 
of  Marcus  AurcHus,  in  Rome;  a  model,  also,  of  the 
Colunni  of  Vespasian,  in  yeliow  Antico  marble  ;  Ciiupic 
Cento  hron/.es,  and  Indian  arms  cajUured  by  the  Vice- 
roy of  Indi;i  at  the  takin;,,^  of  Delhi;  antique  busts  of 
the  Roman  emperors  ;  and  swords  from  Delhi,  taken 
after  the  capture  by  I/>rd  Camlin^^  An  immense 
library-table  occn])ies  the  cetitre  of  the  room  ;  and  the 
windows  o])en  on  the  j;reat  .slopin;,^^  lawn  at  the  side  of 
the  pal.K  {•, 

Opposite  lln-  liliiary,  and  of  the  same  si/.<-,  is  tiic 
«iiniu^',-room,  whose  wall-,  are  huiij^  with  pidines  by 
tlie  old  masters  ;  and  on  en  h  side  of  whose  massive 
nre-place  stands  a  life  si/e  X'eiuiian  fiKUie  of  a  hea\'y 
I'Uhiopian  slave,  holding!;  in  his  hands  a.  basket  for 
fruit.  A  handsome  model  of  Pompey's  Pillar,  in 
broii/e  and  bl.ick  i!iarb!c,  tm  feet  hi;<h,  stands  a^^ainst 
one  wall  ;  while  the  op])o>ite  wall  is  adcjrned  with  a 
Russian  group,  in  marble,  representing  the  triumphs 
of  Alexander  the  Great. 

The  north  drawing-room,  corres])onding  in  si/.e  with 
the  library  and  the  dining-room,  is  fdled  with  Portu- 
guese carved  cabinets  ;  cabinets  inlaid  with  ivory  from 
Ooa  ;  a  beautiful  Rombay  carved  table  of  teak  wood  ; 
a  collection  of  Chinese  and  Japanese  vases  ;  bowls  and 
caskets  of  copper,  cnamtdled  ;  a  fine  Algerine  onyx 
table,  and  large  Nankin  vases.  l'>y  the  side  of  one  of 
the  finest  cabinc-ts  sits  Cenesche,  in  jjorcelain,  the 
ruling  god  of  India,  ugly,  squat,  and  great. 

The  south  drawing-room  contains  many  specimens 
of  Chinese  and  Japanese   works  of  art,  junong  which 


Till;  lli;i^Oi:S  AND  (JARI)I:NS  of  CINTRA,  131 

may  l)c  stvti  a  liij^lily  wrouK^lit  tboiiy  circular  ta1)lc  of 
grcal  beauty  and  anli(iuity,  teak-wood  chairs  and 
sofas,  rare  caljiucts  of  Tortuj^ucsc  and  Italian  work- 
mauship,  and  uiany  vases  of  Oriental  shape  and 
color. 

The  end  opposite  the  entrance  is  occupied  by  a 
music-room  of  fine  acoustic  proportions,  and  1)eauti- 
fully  decorated.  It  is  circular  in  .shape  ;  ajul  around 
the  walls  are  niches  filled  with  .statues,  between  which 
arc  marble  i)ill  us  sujiporling  a  tastefully  decorated 
ceiling  tai)crinj^  U])  to  a  dome  of  white  and  j^old,  and 
haviuj.;  at  its  base  for  each  arch  a  head  of  the  muses  in 
marble.  A  ^^land  piano  fionj  the  Austrian  Ivxposi- 
tioii,  a  marble  Krou])  of  "The  Listeners,"  carved 
Indian  fnrnitinv,  dainty  JiniliHi'itrs  of  teak  wood 
from  (loa.  and  rare  va^cs  com])Ic(e  the  outfit  of  the 
room. 

A  side-hall,  openini^  out  of  the  circular  fountain- 
coiut,  cont.iins  the  main  staircase  of  the  palace,  and  is 
ornamented  with  a  Cinque  Cento  copy  of  the  Nile 
from  the  statue  in  Rome,  most  beautiful  I'lemish 
tapestries,  and  a  most  imposinj^  old  Arabic  IJilha 
for  holdin^^  oil, — a  \ase  of  perfect  proportions  and 
coloi  in^. 

iMom  this  hall  you  pass  into  a  .small  room  filled 
with  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  ecclesiastical  relics, 
and  lamps  of  ancient  Portuguese  manufacture  ;  a  fine 
old  copy  of  vSt.  Anthony  in  alabaster,  once  the  prop- 
erty of  Mr.  r>eckford,  and  purcha.sed  by  vSir  Francis 
in  London  ;  an  alabaster  relievo  from  an  oratory ; 
crucifixes  in  silver;  chalices,  .and  a  very  old  enamelled 
processional  cross.  On  the  wall  han^^s  a  beautiful  Italian 
wood-car\ing  of  Christ  bearing-  the  cross,  with  a  laige 


132  A  Y1:AR  in  i'ORTUGAL. 

ivory  ami  pearl  cross  liangiug  over  it.  An  inlaid  cabi- 
net from  Cjoa,  a  table  inlaid  with  niother-of- pearl,  a 
Cnstodio  of  silver  gilt,  aiul  heavy  \'cnetian  iidaid 
chairs  make  up  the  furniture  and  ornaments  of  this 
curious  and  tastefid  room. 

Tiiis  is  Montserrate,  where  vSir  Francis  and  Lady 
Cook  reside  a  very  few  months  each  year,  which  is  one 
of  the  great  attractions  of  Cintra,  and  from  a  visit  to 
which  the  lCm])eror  of  Iha/.il  has  just  returned  to  the 
I'ragan/.a  filled  with  a'lmiration. 

Among  tlie  remarkable  spots  in  Cintra  is  a  cave  or 
den  (lug  out  among  boulders,  cutout  of  rock,  floored 
by   the  ])ii:nary   foinidations  of  the  earth,  and   roofed 
with  artificial  tiles.     The  entrance  is  a  space  l)etween 
two  enormous  stones,  so  low  that  you  mast  sloop  on 
entering.     The   rooms   are   small  and  dismal,  enclosed 
by  walls  into  which  the  great  swollen  forms  of  buried 
boulders  are  set  here  and  there,  and  whose  ceilings  are 
comj^osed  of  a  wild  mi.Klure  of  rude  art  and  rugged 
nature.      All  is   .stone. — cold,   dark,    gloomy,    dismal, 
disgusting.     When  you  have  crept  through   the  .stony 
entrance,  which   you  approach  across  a  small,  rough 
grass-plot  and   re:u;h   by  a   few  rude  stone   steps,  you 
find  yourself  in  a  contracted  hall,  dimly  lighted,  from 
which  you  can  i)ass  through  low  doors  into  an  apart- 
ment   containing    twenty    cells   for   monks,    each    cell 
being  only  fixe  feet  S'piare.      A  little  church,    with  an 
altar  adorned  with   blue  tiles  and  a  recess  in  which  a 
devout  figure  kneels  in  ]irayer,   oflers  you  a  gloomy 
consolation.     A  sacristy  of  siinilar  construction    con- 
tains a  figure  in  plaster, — I   suppose  of  Christ  in  his 
agony — and  a  moukly  wall.     A  gloomy  refectory,  along 
which  is  placed  a  roUL^h  stone  slab  for  a   talde,  with  a 


THE  HEROliS  AND  GARDENS  OF  CINTRA.  133 

wooden  seat  each  side,  backed  by  the  stone  wall,  and 
affording  about  eight  inches  of  depth  to  the  scat,  the 
width  to  be  governed  by  the  si/.e  of  the  sitting  and 
feasting  monk,  constitutes  the  dining-room.  The  ad- 
joining kitchen  is  supplied  with  little  stone  braziers 
and  charcoal  furnaces,  and  is  not  supplied  with  closets 
and  presses,  so  far  as  I  could  discover.  In  a  small 
court-yard  are  a  few  more  little  furnaces  ranged  round 
a  narrow  stone  jjent-house,  just  about  large  enough  for 
a  single  stew  or  perhaps  a  savory  broil.  All  this  is 
lined  with  cork-bark— ro(jms,  cells,  .seats,  and  church, 
— lo  counteract  the  dampness  of  the  earth  and  .stone. 
The  means  of  heating  are  not  apparent,  and  the  usual 
provisions  for  cleanliness  are  gone  if  they  ever  ex- 
isted. This  strange  combination  o(  the  wildest  and 
rudest  nature  and  a  cra/y  freak  of  art  is  situated  on  a 
bleak,  rough  tract,  at  the  top  of  a  srrnr,  where  one 
of  the  rugged  places  is  spread  out,  and  has  bect)mc  a 
hard,  inieven,  wind-swept  plain,  from  which  you  can 
look  down  upon  the  peaceful  valley  fifteen  hundred 
feet  below. 

This  stony  structure  is  called  the  Cork  Convent, 
from  its  linitig.  It  might  be  called  the  Rocky  Mon- 
astery, from  its  exterior  ;  and  the  Insane  Asylum, 
from  its  history  and  purpose.  It  was  projected  by 
Dom  John  de  Castro,  as  I  have  already  said,  and  was 
erected  by  his  son  after  his  death  in  the  sixteenth 
centur>',  and  after  his  victorious  career  as  the  great 
caj)tain  and  founder  of  the  power  of  Portugal  in  the 
Kast.  He  died  amidst  the  scene  of  his  conquests, 
pious  and  ])enniless,  in  the  arms  of  St.  bVancis  Xavier, 
who,  as  he  closed  the  eyes  of  his  illustrious  friend, 
said  :    "  The  \'icero\-  of  India  is  dying  S(^  poor  that  he 


t34  A  VIAR  IN  FMRTUGAL. 

has  not  wherewith  to  buy  a  fowl."  The  great  Viceroy 
declared  on  his  deathbed,  if  bed  he  had,  that  he 
laid  out  his  last  shilling  in  relieving  the  wants  of  his 
soldiers  ;  and  when  his  coflers  were  opened  there  was 
found  in  them  the  sum  of  one  vintcni — a  little  more 
than  one  ]>einiy.  His  courage  and  ability  had  founded 
a  great  einpire,  and  had  enabled  a  nation  to  erect 
churches  and  monasteries  and  universities,  and  to 
sweep  the  high  seas  with  the  great  fleets  of  her  com- 
merce. He  had  fomided  the  most  enteri')rising  kingdom 
of  the  century,  and  knew  the  j)ower  of  man  in  securing 
great  werdth  and  culture  and  emi)ire.  The  great 
authors  of  Spain  and  Portugal  were  his  contemporaries, 
probably  his  friends  and  admirers — Cercantes,  Lope  de 
Vega,  Santa  Theresa,  Carcitasso,  in  Spain  ;  Camocns, 
Miranda,  I'erreira,  in  Portugal  ;  Tasso  and  Machiavel 
and  Ariosto  in  Italy.  Out  of  the  great  wealth  he 
poured  into  his  country'  grew  the  gorgeous  architec- 
ture of  the  church  in  his  day.  lie  had  palaces,  friends, 
pov.er,  a  great  history. 

It  would  not  l^e  easy  in  our  day  to  luulerstand  that 
.spirit  of  lunniliation,  that  recognition  of  the  need  of 
j)enance,  that  religious  ecstasy  which  drov'e  liim  from 
the  .society  of  the  great  into  poverty  and  seclusion,  and 
led  him  to  provide  for  the  erection  of  this  gloomy  cell. 
The  occupants  were  twent>'  reformed  Franciscan  monks, 
who  spent  their  time  in  the  most  abject  degradation  of 
the  flesh  in  their  .search  after  the  elevation  of  the  spirit. 
A  cold  and  gloomy  cell  by  day  and  the  most  miconiforta- 
ble  couch  by  night  constituted  the  arrangement  of  their 
home.  The  isolatioji  was  depressing.  Xeitlier  picture, 
nor  library,  nor  famil}  circle  was  theirs.  Not  far  from 
the  cavern  which  had  been  ci>nverted  into  an  ecclesiasti- 


THE  iii:Kor.s  and  gardens  of  cintra.  135 

cal  institution,  you  are  k-cl  hy  a  short  and  narrow  path 
and  a  flight  of  irrcguhir  stone  steps  into  a  hole  partly 
roofed  by  an  enormous  stone,  to  all  appearances  the 
den  of  a  wild  beast,  in  which  the  hennit  Honorius 
passed  the  last  sixteen  years  of  his  long  life.  In  this 
damp  and  filthy  spot  this  "  holy  man  "  retired  at  night 
to  his  couch  of  leaves  and  his  stone  pillow,  after  his 
days  of  praise  and  worship,  to  which  he  was  constantly 
devoted.  To  lie  prone  was  impossible.  He  curled 
himself  up  in  his  narrow  quarters  like  a  hi  )eniating 
bear.  He  lived  to  beninty-six  >earsol(l,  and  on  a  stone 
in  front  of  bis  cave  his  bretlircn  inscribed  : — 

Ilir  Honorius  Vitam  I'iiiivit, 
]•'.{  I(k'o  cum  Dio  in  Coclo  rtvivit — 
Ohiit  Anno  Domini,  1596. 

And  l{yron  wrote  of  him  : 

"  Deep  in  yon  ravt.-  Honorius  \ou\^  diil  dwell, 

In  hope  to  merit  heaven  hy  tnakini;  earth  n  hell." 

Perhaps  this  long  tale  of  heroism  and  .self-sacrifice 
and  fanaticism,  as  we  call  it,  does  not  interest  us,  as 
does  the  tale  of  the  Mavjlo-vcr  and  the  .star\-ing  and 
freezing  winter  at  Plymouth.  Hut  we  should  never  tire 
of  contemplating  such  events  in  man's  history,  repre- 
senting, as  they  do,  the  courage  and  determination  by 
which  great  deeds  are  acc()m])lishcd  and  great  lessons 
taught.  Honorius  and  his  fellow-monks  represent  a 
spirit  which  finds  expression  in  our  day  in  remorse, 
penitence,  and  regret.  Had  John  dc  Castro,  with  his 
proud  spirit  and  his  religious  enthusiasm,  taken  the 
place  of  the  great  Puritan  leader,  he  woidd  have  found 


136  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

no  need  of  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth  in  which  to 
jjurify  his  soul.  His  daily  life  would  have  furnished 
him  an  ftpportunity  for  self-sacrifice,  which  he  could 
not  find  in  the  splend<;rs  of  the  empire  he  had  enriched 
an<l  the  nobility  he  had  clothed  with  p(;\\xr.  What  he 
would  have  done  in  our  day  and  country'  God  only 
knows — unless  he  had  betaken  himself  to  an  alms- 
house or  a  reformatory  institution. 

I  rambled  ai)(nit  Cintra  examining  all  its  beautiful 
places.  I  drove  to  Cascries  and  saw  a;^ain  the  superb 
sea-view,  a  ])alace  and  a  fortification  combined,  j^reat 
turreted  walls,  beautiful  terraces,  a  sea-washed  cave 
so  deej),  dark,  and  dismal  that  it  is  called  "The 
Mouth  of  Hell  " — in  Pcjrtuguese  tongue,  "  Boca 
d' Inferno." 

Cintra  has  long  been  the  home  or  the  summer  resort 
of  ])ersons  of  rank,  wealth,  and  distinction — the  De 
Castros  of  former  da\s,  the  v^aldanhas  of  more  modern 
times.  The  estates  are  still  largely  held  by  persons  of 
this  descriplion,  and  I' sli.ill  not  forget  the  courtesy  of 
Sir  I-'rancis  and  I,ady  Co<;k,  at  our  rejK-ated  visits  to 
Montserrate,  and  in  llu.ir  liberal  sn])iil)'  of  plants  an<l 
Jlowers  for  oiu'  ro<)m  at  tin-  I,a\vrence  ;  or  the  w<.-lcome 
we  fotnid  at  111'-  tennis  court  of  the  Mascaihenas  and 
al  til'  hull  (•  of  111''  K'  \'.  Ml.  ro]"',  llic  I',n}di'-.li  i'clf»r, 
and  al  lli<'  piil!\'  <n[\:\yr  of  Mi,  M-iny  Nivill,  (lu- 
intc-llii^cnt  aii'l  alUntixe  niana^-/ i  of  Monl'.niaU-,  all 
of  whose  residences  cluster  around  the  famous  garden. 
'Vo  have  enj')yed  the  cheerful  and  enlivening  inlluence 
of  I.ady  I'elre  and  her  judicious  husband,  the  P.ritish 
minister;  and  the  ICnglish  hosj)itality  of  vSir  George 
and  Lad>-  Uonham  ;  and  the  warm  reception  of 
Moaseii;neur   \'ainuitelli,    the    I'ope's    nuncio,    at    his 


THE  HEROES  AND  GARDENS  OF  CINTRA.  137 

qiiinta,  where  he  blessed  you  with  his  genial  smile, 
and   cheered   you   with   his   bright  conversation,  and 
sliowed  you  his  crops  and  his  cattle  with  pride,  and 
warmed  your  heart  with  his  choice  port  wine  ;  and  the 
quick  intelligence  of  Chevalier  Cotta,  the  Secretary'  of 
the  Italian  Legation,  and  his  brilliant  wife  and  those 
fascinating  little  girls  ;  and  courteous  Rosty,  the  Aus- 
trian Secretary  of  Legation  ;  and  the  Brazilian  Attache^ 
Senhor  Coellio  Gomes,  with  his  graceful,  entertaining, 
ami    accomplished    wife,   the   bt-auty   of   Indiana  ; — to 
have  enjoyed  a  social   group  of  national   representa- 
tives like  these,   I  say,   is  not  easily  secured  and  not 
easily    forgotten.     The  presence  of  the  royal   family, 
moreover,    gave   great   (juality   to   the   society  of  the 
place  during  all  the  summer  months,  when  the  King 
was  strong  enough  to  be  present  at  the  brilliant  recep- 
tion given  at  the  palace,  and  the  Oiieen  had  not  lost 
courage  over  his  Majesty's  illness,  and  Dom  Augusto 
drove  up  and  down   the  hills  with   his  fine   four-mule 
team  luitil   he  went  away  to  <lie  at  the  Xecessidades, 
and  the  Prince  l<oy;il,  Dom  Carlos,  and  his  beautiful 
Princess  had  tluir  home  in  his  charming  villa,   from 
which   he  ste])ped   to  the   throne  of  his   father.     The 
horses  were  admirable  and  the  mules  as  fine  as  nmles 
c  ail  In-,  ami  the  music  of  the  ])ala('e  band  lloaled  out  cm 
i\iry  e\cning-lide,  and  unilorms  flaslud  in  the  stnits, 
and   for  the  fust  lime  in   the  hi^lniy  of   Portugal   the 
American  Minister  was  received  by  the  King  in  the  Old 
Palace  at  Cinlra,  with  all  the  pomi).  and  circumstance 
of  such  occasions.      It  is  a  good  deal  of  a  place,  and  a 
good  deal  of  a  siunmer,  and  a  good  deal  of  a  station,  I 
suppose,  which  brijig  all  this,  and  fine  weather  too,  and 
all  the  charms  of  the  sceiier)-  of  that  renowned  scrra. 


138  A  YHAR  IN  PORTUGAL, 

liut  now  a  rnilrond  runs  from  T,islK»n  to  Cintra,  nncl 
there    is  a  ImllfiKlit  on  vSuiidMy  .'iflcniooiis,  and  the 
people  fliK'k  ont  fVoni  the  city  for  refreshment  and  recrea- 
tion, and  llic  j)lnce  lias  chanj^ed  from  its  former  exclii- 
siveness  which  was  preserved  by  nearly  twenty  miles 
of  a  dreary   road  over  a  most  nninteresliii^  comitry, 
with   rattlinj;  carriaj^es  and   slow  and  stubborn  horses 
and   nniles,      An<l   so  Cintra  now  sees  the  oilier  side  of 
life,     'i'he  creaking;  wine-carts  are  still  drawn  into  town 
from  Collares  by  stately  oxen.      Donkeys  still  strng^lc 
over  the  roads,   hidden  by  lu:j;e  panniers  of  fruit  and 
vej;et.-d)les  and  sheepskins,  or  weighted  down  by  great 
I)iles   of  green  pine  wood,  and  the  noise  of  the  roaring 
dri\er  with  his  eternal  whip  is  heard  in  the  street.     The 
town  has  a  busy  and  .somewhat  populous  air.     A  great 
many  talkative  persons  stand  round  in  the  market-place. 
A  great  many  baskets  of  oranges  and  lemons,  and  tur- 
nij)S  and  apples,  and  a  great  many  bundles  of  chickens 
and  dncks  strugglitjg  to  be  free,  cover  the  si<le-vvalk  in 
front  of  the    market  house  ;  ;ii)d   a    great  many    jural 
women  condiif  t  the  tiMde,  on  which  a  jailfid  of  » rimi- 
n.d'^i  );•'''•'  f'oni   Ihfit    jMnleij    windows  on  Ihf  oppir.il** 
nid"' of  the  hlitet,  ;itiiiving  in  hi)'.hl  (»f  »uir|i  iihnlv,  mid 
b«  j'.Kinc  idmn  in  vntn  fioin  lh«'  pioi  pi  ron  i  li,id«  ir^,     Thf 
boys  pl.iy  bull  fi  J',  hi  in  llic  s<|ii;in-,     Th"'  sliop',,  imt  vtiy 
heavily  stocked,  aic  ope  u   with  llirii-  umikiw  fronts  and 
their   shallow   rooms.     The   donki  y-drivers    IkIIow  at 
the   little  Inasls,  swear  Ihey  an.'  iiioUc,  la/.y  ;  and  gi\'e 
them    a    he.ivy    <losi.'    of    t/iihnfo,    tlx-    switch.      "  N<'u> 
fnl/a  foyfuinii":  /  "  says  the  c/irriage  driver,  who  t:d;es 
advant.ige  of  yoiu'   ignorante  to  charge  you   wh.il  he 
ple.ases  for  his  time-worn  team,      I  he.ird  a  noisy  alter- 
cation in  the  street  between  two  dingy  sons  of  Portugal 


THE  HIIROrS  AND  GARDENS  OF  CI^^^RA.  139 

when  otK-  sliouUd  to  llic  other,  ''  Pouha  inna  ^arra/a 
d'airua  (jnatl,'<wsf)/s,"  whicli,  heijij^  iiilc-rpreted,  ineaiis, 
"  Put  a  hollk'  «»f  liot  water  to  your  feel  "  ;  and  iiiidduht- 
edly  takes  the  phice  of  that  roiij;h  Anierican  advice, 
"Go  home  and  put  your  he;id  in  soak,"  as  the  last 
anuiliilatinjj^  refleetioti  iu  a  fij^lit.  ICvery  man,  be  he 
be^'K'T  or  prince,  shakes  hands  witli  every  other  man 
in  I'ortuKal  ;  every  woman  kisses  every  other  woman  on 
each  cheek  when  thi-y  meet  and  part.  On  every  holi- 
day (and  ahno.st  every  (hiy  seems  to  l)e  a  hoHday,  more 
or  less),  the  streets  of  Cintra  are  thronged  by  young 
men,  not  very  well  dressed,  and  old  men,  some  of  whom 
are  very  badly  dressed.  Drunkenness  is  very  rare,  and 
street  fights  so  .seldom  occur  that  in  a  .'^ojtmrn  of  five 
months  I  never  saw  one.  Cintra  oti  a  holiday  is  a  little 
like  a  New  Ivngland  town  with  a  circus. 

As  Lisbon  increases  in  wealth  Cintra  should  become  a 
sunnner  resort  for  many  of  its  prosperous  citizens.  Were 
it  in  the  neighborhood  of  I'.uis,  or  I/)ndon,  or  Xevv 
York,  or  Hoslon,  it  woidd  soon  be  built  up  with  clia- 
leauH  and  \ilI,iH,  ;ind  inou-  stilely  counliy  residmces, 
(ftiil  wouM  lank  among  tlic  f.r.Iiionablc  walering-pIaceH 
ol  III"  w'lild  III  lii.ioiic  ir(()id  giv'cH  ji  (I  p(culiar 
•  li'Mii  lor  Ihr  ..luduit,  the  pl.HT  given  it  h»  lil'ialnre 
atliiK  l(  Ihr  piM  t,  III"'  b<  .uily  of  il^  heciieiy  eliarins  llie 
lovtr  of  natnrt.- ;  and  the  various  capacity  «»f  its  soil, 
warmed  by  a  tropical  sini  .and  cooled  l»y  ocean  bree/.es, 
makes  it  the  genial  home  of  the  cultivator  of  fruits  and 
flowers.  I  am  confident  the  time  will  come  when  I,is- 
bon  iind  Cintia  will  be  inelude«l  in  a  Ivurope.in  trip  for 
h<;dth  and  pleasure  by  all  who  lca\'e  America  hoping 
lo  find  wh.it  they  might  iind  in  Florida  and  Cali- 
fornia. 


MO  A  YI:AK  IN  l'(  iK  IIJCAL, 

Sunday  at  Cinlra  in  (lcv«>l','l  lo  lM!liri;.;l)ls  -inild  and 
penile  omUxls,  whfii  compared  willi  the  criK-l  and 
bloody  oiiconiikTS  wiiich  arc  so  ])(t[niUir  in  Si)aiii,  A 
Portu^niesc  bnll-fi.^dit  rc-sc-inblcs  a  Spanish  bull-fight 
about  as  much  as  Gov.  Banks'  famous  Couo^rd  muster 
resembled  the  battle  of  Gettysburg.  The  amphitheatre 
in  wjiicli  tlie  cxhiI)ilion  is  held  is  a  rude  structure 
standing  in  tlie  outskirts  (.f  the  town— the  first  object 
which  greets  you  as  you  ai)])roach  Cintra  on  tl;e  rail- 
road from  Lisbon,  and  capable  of  holding  five  thousand 
persons.  The  land  around  it  is  if)ugh  and  uncultivated, 
and  the  gates  and  fences  which  enclose  the  space  arc 
dilapidated  and  decayed.  Th.e  bulls  which  arc  to 
furnish  the  entertaiiunent  are  a  small,  lively  breed  of 
bl.ack  cattle,  supplied  by  the  surrounding  country,  and 
distinguished  more  for  their  ac-tivily  and  liveliness 
than  for  tlieir  majesty  an<l  sa\agery.  'I'here  are />/m- 
</i'/ts,  and  'Iti'los,  and  humlit  illcro';,  .-.iid  iiial(uli)>,s  \\\ 
abundance,  all  armed  and  e(piipped  for  their  work. 
Small  (1  arts  and  si)ears  abound,  and  the  costume  of  the 
actors  is  as  j)ictnres<pie  and  varied  as  Portuguese  color- 
ing can  make  it.  The  ami)hitheatre  is  siuTounrled  l)y 
a  circular  fence  of  i>Iaid<s  about  six  feet  high,  to  protect 
the  audience  against  the  frantic  leaps  of  the  terrified 
bulls,  whose  disp<;sitioii  to  escape  is  not  roused  by 
any  .severe  and  bloody  fight  in  whicli  they  are  expected 
to  engage,  and  whose  activity  is  not  weakened  by  any 
exhausting  wounds  they  receive  in  the  arena.  They 
often  overleap  this  barrier,  to  the  confusion  of  the 
audience  outside.  Passages  are  o])ened  into  the  arena 
for  the  entiance  of  the  actors  and  their  horses,  and  for 
the  admi.ssion  of  the  bulls,  which  are  driven  in  singly 
from  an  outside  enclosure,  where  they  are  confined  until 


Till:  Ili;Rf)nS  AND  GARDHNS  OF  CINTRA.  141 

they  arc  cn^a^a'd  in  tlu*  conflict     Tlu*  bulls  npj  twelve 
ill  nuiiiht-r  and  ;irc  expected  to  make  twelve  fiKlUs,     A 
qtiiet  audience  asseinhU-s  in  ati  orderly  manner — atnus- 
inj;  themselves  after  tlie  fashion  of  a  comic  theatre. 
Opposite  the  main  entrance  is  the  royal  box,  an  attrac- 
tive atid  .showy  .structure,  constitutini;^  all  the  architec- 
tural beauty  of  the  l)uildiug.     From  the  arena  the  seats 
rise   in   anii)liilluatre    form,    after   the   .style   of  those 
imjMjsin^   structures   made    famous  by    the  l)utcherics 
of  ujan  and  beast  "to  make  a   Roman  holiday."      It  i.s 
a  very  quiet  and  orderly  assembly,   gathered  for  (juite 
an    innocent    amusement.      I    looked    for    the    flashing 
c\es,  and  the  eaj.;er  look,  and  the  growin;.;  enthusiasm, 
and    the    1)lood-thirsty    intensity    which    an    audience 
assembled  for  a  bloody  bull-fight  is  wont  io  exhibit. 
'Ihe   ftui  consists  in  throwing  coins  nr  comfits,  if  the 
Poitugue.'-e  enjoy    this  blessing,   to  attendants    in    the 
arena,  or  to  .some  hero  of  a  luuidred  bull-battle^,  who 
has  withdrawn  his  honored  and  distinguished  person 
from  the  contest.      Waiting  for  a  Portuguese  bull-fight 
to  begin  is  a  te<lious  business. 

At  last  ;i  signal  is  given,  and  a  ])rocession  of />/ra- 
(/ons  and  i)ial<idoi(ii  and  bandcrilhros  enter,  some 
mounted  an<l  some  on  foot,  and  proceed  to  pay  their 
res[)eets  to  the  occupants  of  the  royal  box.  A  small 
door  on  the  right  is  noisily  oiKne<l,  a  bar  is  removed, 
and  three  or  four  men  are  seen  urging  and  hurrying  a 
lively  bull  into  the  surprising  scenes  of  the  arena.  The 
bull  enters  with  a  hop,  skip,  and  jump,  evidently  glad 
to  escape  the  confinement  of  his  narrow  quarters  and 
the  clubs  of  his  persecutors.  The  scene  in  the  arena 
evidently  astcmishes  him,  and  he  ])auses  in  the  middle 
to  survey  the    multitude   about   him.     His   repose   is 


142  A  YKAK  IN  I'f  )K  riTiAL. 

S(K)ii  over,  however,  for  before  liis  vision  floats  many 
a  red  banner,  darts  and  spears  are  thrust  into  his 
neck  and  shoulders,  lie  is  l)eset  on  every  side  by 
tonnentors  on  liorseback  and  on  foot,  and  he  affords 
great  entertainment  to  tlie  spectators  by  rushing  wildly 
about,  attacking  ever>-  antagonistic  object  he  meets. 
The  affair  is  innocent  enough — tormenting,  without 
doubt — but  not  excessively  cruel.  No  crippled  horse  is 
gored  and  disembowelled  and  killed.  No  picador 
asto!iishes  a  breathless  audience.  The  sand  of  the  arena 
is  unstained  with  tlie  blood  of  horse  (^r  bull  or  chulo. 
The  bewildered  bull  pauses  fc  r  a  moment,  the  assailants 
withdraw  for  a  s])ace,  and  half  a  do/.eti  mild  and  .sedate 
oxen  are  driven  into  the  arena,  with  whom  the  bull 
seeks  companionship,  and  retires,  to  be  followed  by  a 
new  act  with  a  new  bull,  until  the  twelve  are  exhausted. 
The  audience  retires  quietly,  having  observed  the 
character  of  the  bull  under  difncnlties  ;  the  grave  and 
stubborn  bull,  the  wild  and  lively  bull,  the  bold  and 
fearless,  the  timid  and  cowardly, — all  in  safe  antago- 
ni'-m.  We  were  most  grateful  that  no  one  was  hurt; 
and  if  bull-fights  are  to  form  a  part  of  the  national 
entertainments  eoinmend  us  to  the  Portuguese  variety. 


CHAPTHR  Vlll. 

THE  NORTH  OF  FOR  rU(jAL.-THE  AJDUA.— MR. 
EMERSON. 

November  2()th. — It  is  ati  old  adaj,e  that  "one  must 
have  a  good  constitution  to  travel  in  Spain."  The  .same 
was  tnie  of  Portugal,  which  w;\s  a  part  of  the  Iberian 
Peninsula,  and  whose  hills,  and  valleys,  and  plains,  and 
crags  were  and  are  only  divided  from  Spain  by  an 
imaginary  line.  In  mnny  respects  this  liardship  of 
travel  is  gone,  and  with  it  many  of  those  interesting 
events  and  experiences  which  attend  slow  movement 
on  horseback  and  in  diligence,  whose  place  is  now 
largely  taken  by  railway. 

Portugal,  with  rough  roads  and  bridle-paths  and 
local  characteristics  and  convents  and  monast^.'ries  and 
ecclesiastic  discipline  and  imperial  subjugation,  was  a 
very  different  thing  from  Portugal  with  railroads  and 
depopulated  monasteries  and  convents  converted  into 
public  libraries  and  a  constitution  and  elections  and 
the  repose  which  follows  a  long  period  of  commotion. 
When  the  convents  were  closed  and  the  Church  lands 
sold,  Portugal  lost  one  of  its  most  attracti\e  features  to 
the  traveller,  one  of  the  most  interesting  points  in 
its  history,  one  of  the  rarest  of  its  social  and  civil 
arrangements. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  estimate  the  vast  amount  of 
invested  wealth  which  has  lain  idle  and  useless  since 

i»3 


144  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

the  great  ecclesiastical  esta])]islnnents  were  closed,  and 
the  ecclesiastics  .scattered.     Mafra  alone  cost  i9,ocX),ooo 
crowns,  and  Mafra  was  but  one  of  a  great  group  of 
similar  stntctures  .seattered  over  the  kingdom.     Mafra 
seems  to  be  useless  now  except  as  a  monument  of  a 
former  age  and  another  form  of  civilization.     Mndowed 
with  large  p<>>sessions  and  great  incomes,  the  luxurj- 
of  some  of  these  institutions  was  fabulous,  the  chanty 
unl)ounded.      The  hospitality   was   measured   by  the 
difhculty  of  access,   as  in  the  early  days  of  Virginia, 
when    it    required  a  week  to  reach   a  neighbor  for  a 
morning  call,    and    ten    days  of  rest   and  food  to  get 
.sufficiently  refreshed  to  return  home.     A  hundred  years 
ago  it  l(X)k  nine  days  for  a  traveller  to  get  from  Lisbon 
to  Oporto  ;  and  if  a  call  was  made  on  all  the  hosjiitable 
cloisters  and  refectories  on  the  wa\-,  it  might  have  taken 
nine  months.      Now  it  takes  twehe  hours  by  rail,  and 
a  few  more  hours  will  aflord  time  to  call  at  Alcoba(;a, 
and  IJatalha,  and  Coimbra,  and  Vi/.eu  on  the  way,  if 
tjiose  deserted  halls  and  empty    larders    and  wineless 
cellars  slu)uld  present  any  tein',>tatiou  to  the  curious  and 
luuigry  and  thirsty  traveller  ;  and  \'ou  get  oidy  a  pano- 
ranja  of  a  country  diversified  with  hill  .and  valley,  and 
cornfield  and  '/ineyard,  and  dingy  hamlet  and  uninterest- 
ing dwelling,  and  what  aj^pears  to  be  a  innform  popu- 
l.ilion  scattereil  over  the  (jia'/i/as,  instead  of  the  people 
of  former  days  racy  with  the  characteristics  and  tra- 
ditions of  the  various  localities. 

In  the  ftjrmer  days  how  different !  Were  the  American 
Minister,  invited  by  the  Prince  Regent  of  Portugal,  dur- 
ing the  present  administration  of  President  Harrison,  to 
visit  the  monasteries  at  Batalha  and  Alcoba9a,  he  would 
join  tlie  royal  company  at  the  station  in  Lisbon,  journey 


THE  NORTH  OF  TORTUGAL.  14$ 

eighty  or  ninety  miles  in  a  luxurious  railway  carriage, 
and  finish  his  journey  in  a  comfortable  coach,  all  within 
a  few  hours  ;  and  as  a  reward  ft)r  his  easy  trip,  he  would 
find  a1)sorl>ing  traditions,  the   grandest  and  most  in- 
spiring archilccture,  sublime  provisions  for  the  loftiest 
worship,  now  silent  and  comparati\ely  deserted.      The 
American  Minister  of  a  century  agi),  if  invited,  would 
have  found  a  very  ditTerent  entertainment  proposed  for 
liim.     The  royal  procession  would  have  been  imposing, 
composed  i)f  the  Prince,  two  or  three  high  ecclesiastics, 
with  ac(,)lytes,  .secretaries,  .servants,  grooms,  and  mule- 
drivers,  with  their  favorite  beasts  of  burthen.    Chaises, 
carriages,  and  baggage  carts,  drawn  by  sturdy  nuiles, 
and  stylish  and  spirited  horses,  made  up  the  modes  of 
con\eyance.     Through  i>retty  villages,  and  among  ma- 
jestic palaces,  and  captivating  gardens,  the  train  would 
have  moved  ou,  and  as  the  sun  went  down,  the  travellers 
would  have  covered  fifteen  or  twenty  miles,  and  have 
fomid  a  place  for  luxurious  repose  in  the  domain  ofwell- 
endowed    monks.     A  morning  stroll  through  gardens 
and  whiat-fields,  and  along  the  bank  itf  "  a  nuunuuing 
stream  "  would  commence  llie  second  day,  and  after  an 
ample  and  d<.'lic.ile   repast,  the    tr.\in   would    pittceed. 
The  journey  wi>uld  be  along  the  banks  t)f  the  Tagus 
for  a  long  distance,  which  wi>uld  be  explored  in  order 
to    find    (piarters    for  the   night   iu   a  rich  and   ample 
dt)main,  an  ancient  mansion,  where  the  finest  linen,  the 
richest  \'enetian  glass,  and  the  most  luxuriant  gardens 
cheered  and  delighted  the  tr.aveller.     I\re  long,  how- 
ever, the  road  would  become  almost  impassable  to  the 
hea\y  carriages  of  .so  distinguished  a  party,     l-'rom  the 
slfuighs  of   the   highway   the   strength   of   Portugnese 

shoulders  alone  would  be  sufllcient  to  extricate  them, 
I'; 


146  A  YF.AR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

and  after  long  floumkriiig  and  great  clamor  and  as 
much  objurgation  as  the  Church  would  allow,  the  proces- 
sion would  jK'rhaps  reach  the  regal  monastery  of  Alco- 
ba^a.  The  arrival  of  the  corlt'i^c  in  those  days  would 
be  aiuiounced  \)y  a  tremendous  ringing  of  deep-toned, 
heavy,  sonorous  bells  ;  and  monks,  fathers,  friars, 
and  subordinates,  four  hundred  in  number,  would  be 
drawn  up  in  grand  spiritual  array  on  the  vast  platform 
of  the  monaster)-  to  extend  a  welcome  to  the  visitors. 
The  adoration  of  the  real  presence  would  arrest  the 
attentic)n  fjf  tlie  new-ccjiners,  and  the  tombs  of  I'edro 
the  Just,  and  Inez  de  Castro,  his  beloved,  woidd  re- 
ceive their  first  devotions.  Notwithstanding  the  beauty 
of  the  building,  the  splendor  of  its  decorations,  and  the 
sacred  object  to  which  it  was  devoted,  the  hospitality 
of  the  prelates,  I  doubt  not,  would  be  energetically 
and  jJHjmptly  manifested. 

The  kitclien  of  Alcoba^vi  was  most  attractive  in  its 
day,- -its  traditions  are  most  a])peti/.ing.  It  was  a 
broad  and  lofty  hall,  finished  and  decorated  with  great 
arc-hitectural  skill  and  artistic  taste,  through  whic-h 
flowed  a  cle.ir  and  crystal  rivulet  stocked  with  the 
finest  river  fish.  Game,  venison,  meats,  vegetables, 
and  frtiits  were  always  heaped  up  there  in  great  variety. 
Gre;it  ovens  furnished  most  delicious  bread  in  abun- 
dance and  every  variety  of  pastry  and  tarts  sweetened 
with  the  rarest  sugar  and  made  fiaky  by  the  liighest 
culinary  skill,  A  bamjuet  from  this  kitchen  and  these 
stores  can  be  imagined.  15efore  it  Mr.  \'anderbilt's 
famous  kitchen  and  rebellious  <'ook  sink  iiito  insignifi- 
cance. It  consisted,  as  we  are  told,  "  of  not  only  tlie 
nK)st  excellent  usual  fare,  but  rareties  and  delicacies 
of  past  .seasons   and   distant  coinitries,    ex(piisite    .sau- 


THE  NORTH  OF  I'OKTUGAL.  147 

sages,  potted  lampreys,  strange  nietius  from  Brazil  and 
other  still  stranger  from  China,  edible  bird's  nests,  and 
shark's  fins  dressed  after  the  latest  mode  of  Macao  by 
a  Chinese  lay  brother."  A  sumptuous  adjoining  apart- 
ment was  provided  with  choice  confectioner)',  and  was 
fdled  with  "the  fragrant  vapor  of  Calambre  and  the 
fii\est  quality  of  wood  of  aloes." 

In  ample  chambers  the  travellers  might  find  repose 
for  the  night,  their  eyes  delighted  with  ewers  and  ba- 
sins of  solid  silver,  towels  bordered  with  point-lace, 
and  carved  furniture,  while  the  feet  were  comforted 
witli  Persian  carpets  of  the  finest  texture.  After  the 
hard  travel  and  the  sumptuous  fare  sleep  was  sound 
and  refreshing.  I  low  to  my  mind,  as  I  contemplate 
this  picture,  inidoubtedly  true  to  life,  comes  the  strain 
of  the  old  .song  we  used  to  sing  in  college,  v/ith  the 
.sweet  tenor  of  Win.  Henry  Prince,  the  solcr.in  and 
(piaint  ;  and  of  George  Derby,  the  honorable,  high- 
toned,  and  loyal  ;  and  \V.  W.  Story,  the  graceful 
artist,  whose  manly  1)ass  voice  furni.shed  a  foundation 
for  the  rich  melody  of  the  youthful  choir  : 

"  i  am  Ji  friar  of  orders  K''''y> 

Aiul  down  in  the  valley  I  take  my  way ; 

I  ])ull  tiol  blackberry,  haw  or  hip. 

(^lood  store  of  venison  doth  fill  my  scrip. 

My  lon;^  bcadroll  I  merrily  chant, 

No  money  1  have,  no  money  I  want; 

My  .-iijjjetite  I  mortify 

With  a  dainty  bit  <;f  .i  warder's  pie." 

Among  the  orange  groves,  iKMidering  on  damp  walLs 
the  inscrij)tions  to  the  knights  wlio  fell  at  Aljubarrota, 
one  might  have  spent  many  liours  in  interesting  study 


1(8  A  YI;AI<  IN  I'f'RTrCAL 

and  iheii  hrivc  turned  lo  llic  Ircusurcs  of  crystal  candle- 
.sticks,  sa])[)liire-stud(k'd  crosses,  ^(jMeii  reliquaries,  and 
models  of  cathedrals  with  a'lniiration.      The  departure 
from    this   luxurious   spot,   ahoundinj^   in   wealth  and 
elegance,  meant  the  stumnons  to  long  lines  of  carriages, 
riding  horses,  .sumi)ter  miiles,  and  baggage  carts  with 
jing.ling  bells  au'l  noisy  drivers.     Xo  \vell-a]»poinlcd 
railway  train  would  b<  ar  tin-  \isitors  away,  but  up  lh<; 
^li<I»  asccnls  Ihe  travellers  with  lluir  lumbt  ring  car- 
riages would  toil  to  the  great  wide  plain  on  which  was 
ftjught  as  long  ago  as  i;yS5  the  fierc-e  battle  which  drove 
the  Castilians  from    I'ortugal  and  gave  the  throne  to 
Doin   John,    the    illegitimate    son    of  Dom    I'ernandc), 
known  as  the  king  "  of  j;ood  memory."      Au'l  now  the 
monastc-ry  remains  .solitary  and  <leserlcd,  an  instance  of 
v.liat  may  be  found  thnitighout  Portugal.     When  Dom 
Miguel   was  route'l,  ruid  his  claims  to  the  throne  de- 
stroyed,   the  liberal   supporters  of  tlie  legitimate   line 
annoyed  at  the  supi)ort  the  monasteries  had  given  him, 
determined  on   their   overthrow.     In    i><34,   under  the 
reign  f»f  Dom  Pedro  IV.,  the  extinction  of  the  monastic 
order   took   place   bj'    a<.l  of  the    Cortes  ;  the    monas- 
teries witli  but  few  excej)tions  were   closed,   the  lands 
were  .sold,   and    the    silver    au'l  laces  of  the  ecclesias- 
tics   were  (lis])OM(l     of  ;\t     auction,       It     is    said     the 
sru-rifice  of  proj)erly  was  gnat.     One  powerful  cleimul 
(»f  so<iily    was  d<stroyi  'I,  in   whose  Ii.uids  wen-  many 
imjxirtant  iutlustrits   ;ttid  tlif  great  fountains  of  jmblic 
charilj'. 

To  the  traveller  and  the  student  the  change  was 
great,  as  can  readily  be  seen.  Alcobac.i,  in  the  prime 
of  its  a<-livity  and  wealth  and  j)ower,  was  an  object  of 
deep  interest  to  all  explorers  of  Portugal  ;  Aleobaya  de- 


THE  NORTH  OF  PORTUGAL.  149 

spoiled  is  but  a  melancholy  remnant  of  the  past,  telling 
its  tale  in  silence  and  i;loom.  I  am  not  discussing  here 
the  attitude  assumed  by  the  niotiastics  in  any  national 
crisis  nor  the  condition  of  the  monaslerics  at  the  time 
of  their  exlinction.  I  am  only  considering  the  effect 
of  llie  deslruction  of  any  great  order  n])on  the  slate 
and  society  upon  \vlii(  li  it  lias  a  foothold,  Tlie  ])laee 
left  vacant  may  be  filled  with  maUrials  none  the  less 
interesting,  but  until  fdled  there  will  remain  an  aching 
void.  (fO  to-day  to  :i  monastery  in  the  full  vi^or  of  its 
activity  and  wealth  in  the  i)ossession  of  the  Prince  Re- 
gent, and  to-morrow  by  rail  to  an  a1)andoned  convent, 
and  you  will  miderstand  the  <lifference,  so  far  at  least 
as  the  ])oelry  .and  sentiment  of  the  land  are  concerned. 
Deserted  dwellings  and  aban<lotK(l  estates,  moreover, 
do  not  add  to  tlie  active  vigor  or  to  the  living  appear- 
ance of  any  people,  be  the  ruins  mills  or  monasteries. 
Abandoned  wind-mills  on  hills  where  once  great  wheat 
crops  grew,  do  not  tell  a  t.de  of  agricultural  prosperity. 
The  tale  told  by  ab.andoned  monasteries,  thoUKh  dilTer- 
ent,  is  just  as  significant.     That  is  all. 

Portugal  is  fast  bec(nniug  accustomed  to  the  new 
order  of  things.  As  monasteries  have  retired,  railroads, 
with  all  their  intlustrial  influence,  have  increased  and 
mnlliplied,  not  rapidly.  l)nt  steadily  ;  and  they  are  dis- 
tiny.uislud  more  for  safety  than  speed.  'I'liey  are  well 
maiiaj;ed,  however  ;  Ihc  stations  :ue  will  constructed 
.'Mill  well  cared  for;  the  employes  are  i>roinpt  and  civil, 
and  the  fares  are  reasonable.  Lisbon  is  now  conmcted 
by  rail  with  every  great  city  in  ICm<»pe.  ,and  local 
acc(jmmodatioii  has  largely  increased  during  the  Last 
few  ye.ars.  Meaiiwliile  the  traxeller  in  PortUK:d  finds 
his  oi)[)ortunity  for  local  observation   and  contact  with 


150  A  YF.AR  IN  I'ORTUCAL. 

llic  peoi)lc  largely  cliaiiKcd.  A  journey  l)y  royal  pro- 
cession to  Alcoba^a  is  now  quite  impossible,  and  the 
old  horseback  journey,  with  guides,  is  nearly  aban- 
doned. Tlie  teni])tation  to  sto])  in  the  small  towns,  in 
wliicli  the  j)opul:ir  characteristics  are  displayed,  no 
longer  exists  ;  :ind  wny-side  inlcivicws  are  (|uile  out  of 
llu- <)n<sti'»n.  'rravcllinj',  now  ni(;ins  going  fVoiii  pl;ne 
to  pl:ice  ;  formerly,  it  iiieiuit  ddibfiiite  Ntudy  ol'  I:ind- 
sc.ipi'  and  people,  of  vill.igf  ;ind  city  alike,  ol  fi<-ld  ;ind 
garden,  and  forest  iind  farm.  'I'lie  introduction  to  all 
lhisconsi^led  in  tlie  purchase  of  a  liorse  for  the  journey  ; 
and  in  this  single  operation  more  is  learned  of  human 
nature  than  can  be  in  days  of  <iuiet  and  mere  Sf)eial  in- 
terviews with  the  ])eoj)le. 

U  any  one  desires  to  know  all  about  a  P(jrtuguesc 
village,  k't  him  open  negoti.ations  there  by  a  horse- 
trade.  Perhaps  this  is  triie  everywhere  ;  but  it  is 
especially  true  in  a  country  where  the  language  is  not 
well  under^.tood,  ami  where  the  management  of  horses 
is  somewhat  jjcculi.ar.  Having  m.ide  a  successful  pur- 
chase, and  .secured  pn;per  efpiipments,  in  the  way  of  a 
saddle,  pistols,  saddle-b.-igs  and.  c-lo;ik,  the  traveller  has 
the  way  open  before  him,  along  river  banks,  over  rocky 
.steeps,  and  thron^di  .-ill  the  highwa\s  and  byways  by 
which  ci'untiy  inl<.  iTourse  is  kt'pt  up.  In  1  his  way  Hy- 
mn went  through  Sp.iin  atid  Portugal  just  eighty  years 
;i;.M)  ;  and  wherever  Pyron  went,  he  went  for  in\estig.i- 
tioii.  lie  had  saddlediorses  and  serv.anls  ;  and  he  under 
took  to  ride  ])ost  nearly  400  miles,  as  far  as  ()ibr;dl:ir; 
aJid  thence  he  went  by  .sea  to  Melita  and  ]>y/,antium. 
It  is  verj'  evident  th.it  by  the  way  he  be( 'ami:  very  inti- 
mate with  all  tl);it  w;is  to  be  seen  and  heard,  Ilec.ame 
to  Cintra,  an<l  pronounced  it  "  the  most  beautiful  vil- 


THR  NORTH  OF  PORTUGAL.  151 

lagc,  ptrliaps,  in  the  world,"  When  in  Lisbon,  he 
wrote  :  "  I  am  very  happy  here,  because  I  love  oranges, 
and  talk  bad  Latin  to  the  monks,  who  understand  it, 
as  it  is  like  tJK-ir  own  ;  and  I  goes  into  society  (with 
my  jKJckft  pistols) ;  and  I  swims  the  Tagtts  all  across 
at  once  ;  and  I  rides  on  an  ass,  or  a  nutle,  and  swears 
iNtitiiKMcsc.  Htil  what  of  that  ?  Comfort  nnist  tiot  he 
expec  ti'd  by  folks  that  gr)  a-pleasiuing.  When  the 
Tortngnese  are  pertinaci(jns,  I  say  Canadw !  the  great 
oath  of  the  grandees,  that  very  well  su])])lies  tlie  ])lacc 
of'  Damme'  ;  and  when  dissatisfied  with  my  neiglibor, 
I  ]>rononnce  him  .loibia  di  mtinio.  With  these  two 
l)hrases,  and  a  third,  Avra  boiiro,  which  sigtiifieth 
'get  an  ass.'  I  am  universally  understood  to  be  a  person 
of  decree  and  a  master  of  languages.  How  merrily  we 
live,  that  travellers  be  !— if  we  had  food  and  raimciit. 
But,  in  sober  sadness,  anything  is  better  than  ICngland  ; 
and  I  am  infinitely  amused  with  my  i)il,i;rimage,  as  far 
as  it  has  gone," 

Does  ;uiyl)o(ly  suppose  that  Hyron  woidd  have 
learned  all  this  wisdom,  and  more  which  he  did  learn, 
if  he  could  have  taken  a  train  at  Alcantara,  .and  started 
out  from  tliis  station  oti  an  excursion?  In  fact,  the 
only  way  for  a  traveller  to  secure  the  respect  of  the 
jK-ople  he  came  in  contact  with  in  fornur  days  was  by 
pinsuing  his  journey  in  the  saddle,  if  he  could  find 
one.  If  the  jjcople  of  a  village  are  inclined  to  be 
obliging,  a  horseman.  wlu»  has  ri'ldeii  tip  to  an  inn  door 
for  "  enterl.n'nment  for  man  ruid  beast,"  will  soon  find 
it  out  ;  and  if,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  inclined  the 
other  way,  he  will  .soon  find  that  out.  If  he  is  fortu- 
nate, all  the  curiosities  of  the  ])l.ice  will  at  once  be 
oi)eiU'd  lor  him  ;  .ill  the  inconveniences  of  a  country  inn 


152  A  YFAR  IN  I'CJHTUGAL. 

arc  at  once  revealed  to  him  ;  all  the  traditions  of  the 
locality  are  jwtired  into  his  ear.  The  economy  of  the 
farm  is  taught  liim  practically.  In  Portngal,  the 
working  of  a  sin;.;le-handeil  j)loti}^h  ;  the  reaping;  of 
j^rain  by  the  hand  (if  woman  ;  the  slorin^^  of  ^orse,  for 
hcddinj;  (something  like  the  wood-wax  of  ICssex 
Conntyj  ;  the  manai^ement  of  oxen  ;  the  use  of  the  ox 
cart,  whose  axle-tree  revolves  with  the  solid  wheel  ; 
the  domestic  manaj^emcnt  of  the  fimily, — all  can  be 
seen  from  the  saddle. 

In  a  c'luiilry  of  antiquities,  the  sauntering;  traveller 
finds  his  v/ay  into  e\ery  obscure  trace  of  a  former 
peoi)le, — in  fact,  can  hardly  escape  them.  His  eyes  arc 
in  every  ])la(e  ;  his  ears  are  open  to  their  cry,  if  he 
will  only  kee])  his  mind  alert.  Would  you  learn  the 
literature  of  a  ])eople,  loini.^e  through  the  towns  ;  note 
the  presence  or  absence  of  the  newspaper  ;  examine  the 
str.iy  worn  books,  if  there  are  any  ;  and  draw  your  own 
inference.  If  yon  >;o  into  tlie  north  of  I'orlu^^al  as  an 
explorer,  you  are  at  on<e  introduced  to  some  of  the 
nir>st  brilliatil  .scenes  of  rorlti;^uese  history, — not  in 
the  j-^nat  <-ities,  like  Opoito,  and  Coindna,  but  in  the 
moiint:iin  fastnesA'".,  and  on  the  l);ittli'-()'ld, 

III  the  }'.nal  <-xt<iil  ol'  ((Miiili  y  l>'iii};  .'iloiij;  the  homo 
li\rd  tli:it  bold  and  lianly  raci-  who  fou^'.lil  thioiij'.h 
many  y',iiKaations  for  the  iiKl'-peiidcnci- <)f  l'ortn;.;aI  and 
Spain  whi-n  tin-  Arabs  were  ))Ianlin^^  the  .Moslem  fdth 
and  banner  throu;.^hout  the  land,  lonj<  before  William 
the  Conqueror  had  set  foot  on  I'.ni^lish  soil.  Here 
Affonso  Heiitiques  fou^^ht  his  ^reat  battles  and  secured 
his  power.  And  in  this  hill  coiniliy  the  ])eople  learned 
their  rights,  \';du''d  tlnir  jtosst.ssions,  and  kniwhow  to 
defen.l   them.     'I'o  asceii<l  tlie  commandin^^  hills  an(l 


THE  NORTH  OF  F'ORTUGAL.  15J 

look  down  upon  the  theatre  of  this  heroic  action  is  the 
privilege  he  enjoys  whose  endurance  has  been  increased 
by  hard  journeys  and  who  has  not  been  cncr\'ated  in 
mind  or  Ixxly  by  railway  travel.  It  is  licre,  too,  that 
the  wine  largely  imported  into  Salem  by  our  mercantile 
ancestors  was  made, — not  Canary,  which  figures  so 
largely  in  old  invoices,  but  Port — the  wine  of  the 
Knglish  statesman,  the  wine  on  which  the  two-bottle 
men  of  Parliament  i)rided  themselves,  the  wine  with 
which  our  old  Saturday  Club  washed  down  their  salt- 
fish  and  apple-jjie.  The  ui)])er  Douro  region  should  be 
dear  to  every  man  with  Salem  blood  in  his  veins — a 
region  to  be  reached  only  on  horseback  or  on  foot. 

Portugal,  like  every  old  country,  is  full  of  amusing 
incidents  and  accidents.  It  is  not  common  for  a  traveller 
to  be  lost  in  a  wood  in  these  days,  especially  where  man 
has  trod  for  more  than  two  thousand  years.  And  yet 
one  of  the  best  Portuguese  travellers,  as  he  tells  us, 
found  himself  in  Cinnnerian  darkness  at  night  in  the 
middle  of  a  forest  in  the  Algarves,  deserted  by  his 
runaway  horse,  and  his  guide,  who  started  in  pursuit 
(jf  the  animal  through  a  dense  inidergrowth,  and 
with  no  knowledge  whatever  of  the  cotirse  to 
follow.  'J'iie  K"'*h'  beliewd  in  ghosts.  'I'he  Sc\en 
VV'histlein  were  luiird,  and  his  tenor  became  in- 
tense. "  If  a  man  oidy  looks  at  them  and  .sees 
tluiii,  hea\en  only  knows  what  will  not  hapi)en  to 
him,"  cried  the  superstitious  boor.  No  light  was 
to  be  .seen  in  the  wood — not  a  path.  Horse  and 
guide  had  vanished,  and  after  a  slender  repast  on 
bread  aiul  wine  the  "  benighted  swain  "  sat  upon  the 
gromid,  leaned  his  back  aj;ainst  a  tree,  and  fell 
asleep.       The     shrieks    of    a     revolving     axle-tree,    a 


154  A  Y1:aK  in  I'CjKTUGAL. 

sound  well  known  lo  every  traveller   on  the   country 
roads    in    P(jrtn;;al,    awoke    him    in    early    morning, 
and  he  took  his  way  to  a  neii^hborint^  village  as  directed 
by  a  carter,  where  he  found   his    terrified  guide  sleep- 
ing soinidly  lying  in  a  manger  <^f  the  village  inn.    When 
asked  why  he  did  not  resi)ond    to   his   master's   call, 
which    he   acknowledged    he   heard    in    the  wood,  he 
rc])lied,  "  I  really  heard  the  voice,  but  I  thought  it  must 
be  an  ali)ja  do  ok  fro  in  undo" — a  soul  from  the  land  of 
gho>ts.     When  this  c(»nsiderate  master  ad»ministered  a 
dose  of  brandy  :.nd  (juinine  Ut  th.is  same  inconsiderate 
guide,  when  he  had  been  accidentally  ducked  in  a  cold 
and  ra])id  river,  the  sufferer  exclaimed,  "  I  will  never 
touch    those    />o~('s   do  inferno — those    devils'  paws — 
which  you  put    in  your  brandy."       The  boys   in   the 
street  address  each  other  in  play  as  "your  lordship," 
and  an  intelligent  ICnglishman  informed  a  stranger  who 
was  trying  in  vain  to  make  himself  understood,  that 
"  these  natives  understand  luiglish  well  enough  if  they 
choose  ;  it  is  only  their  confounded  obstinacy,  sir  ;  if  you 
t:dk  loud  enough  the}'  will  alwa\-s  understand."  If  you 
would  know  Portugal  tra\-el  on  foot  or  on  horseback. 

On  vSalurday  last  I  was  summoned  to  a  reception  at 
the  Ajuda  Palace,  given  by  tin';  King  and  Oueen  in 
honor  of  the  birth  of  a  prince  named  Doin  Manoel, 
and  by  the  Oueen  Dowager  in  condolence  on  the  death 
of  Dom  I.uis.  Of  course  the  invitation  came  at  the 
last  moment.  I  received  it  at  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  just  as  I  had  risen,  to  have  fift}-  minutes 
in  which  to  dress,  cat  my  breakfast,  and  catch  a  train 
from  Cintra  to  Lisbon.  The  reception  was  at  one 
o'clock.  When  I  arrived  at  the  Ajuda  I  found  the 
great  courtyard  filled  with  carriages,  in  the  long  pro- 


THE  AJUDA.  ISS 

cession  of  which  I  was  placed  on  my  way  to  the  great 
entrance  to  tlie  palace.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  my 
impatience,  and  it  is  easy  also  to  imagine  the  alacrity 
with  which  I  leaped  from  my  coupi\  called  the  faithful 
Ramos  to  follow,  and  proceeded  on  foot  between  long 
files  of  soldiers  on  one  side  and  carriages  on  the  other 
to  the  royal  abode.  I  surrendered  my  overcoat  to 
Ramos  and  was  directed  up  a  long  flight  of  marble  steps, 
well  caq)eted  for  the  occasion,  and  I  nnmnted  up  and  up 
into  a  lofty  story  where  I  was  directed  to  a  handsome 
room  in  which  I  found  the  Brazilian  Minister  solenni 
over  the  United  States  of  Brazil,  his  attache,  S.  Gomes, 
the  cheerful  Mr.  Petre,  the  British  Minister,  and  one  or 
two  secretaries.  The  room  was  gradually  fdled  with 
decorated  gentlemen,  among  whom  was  one  inexperi- 
enced lady,  who  had  considered  herself  invited,  and 
was  bound  to  see  the  show  if  .she  was  alone  in  her  glon*'. 
After  a  little  change  of  diplonuitic  civilities  we  were 
summoned  to  the  throne- room,  and  we  passed  into  that 
stately  apartment  through  a  room  filled  with  a  glittering 
array  of  cabinet  ministers  and  officers  of  the  court. 
We  all  passed  solennily  on,  led  by  my  friend  the  Nuncio, 
and  stationed  ourselves  in  a  line  opposite  the  throne, 
which  consisted  of  a  canopy,  three  golden  chairs,  and 
a  dais.  The  crowd  of  courtiers  followed  us  into  the 
room  and  filled  a  large  space  near  tlie  entrance.  At  a 
signal  the  young  King  and  his  mother  a])peared  :  the 
King  in  undress  uniform,  a  short  s.ick  with  slight 
decoration,  dark  blue  pantaloons,  a  dress  sword,  a 
helmet  with  a  long  plume  in  his  hand  ;  the  Queen 
Dowager  in  the  deepest  inonniing,  attended  by  about 
twenty  ladies-in-waiting  all  in  like  attire.  The  King 
and  his  mother  j)roceeded  at  once  to  the  Nuncio  at  the 


iS6  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

head  of  the  diplomatic  line,  and  addressed  him  and  each 
foreign  minister  in  turn,  passing  down  the  line,  the  King 
leading  and  his  mother  folUnving.  We  all  made  a  little 
confidential  speech  to  the  King,  who  looked  happy,  and 
to  the  mourning  Queen  Dowager,  who  had  suddenly 
passed  through  sorrow  from  middle  life  to  old  age.  I 
congratulated,  in  proper  phrase,  as  you  may  suppose, 
the  father,  and  expressed  my  condolence  to  the  widow. 
When  we  had  done  this  we  all  filed  out,  making  a  low 
bow  to  their  Majesties  as  we  passed  in  front  of  them. 
The  ceremony  for  us  was  over,  and  I  drove  to  the 
Bragan/a  for  rest  and  refreshments. 

The  Ajuda  is  one  of  the  six  palaces  in  and  around 
Lisbon,  and  was  intended  to  be  the  finest  of  all.  It  is 
.still  unfinished.  It  was  built  l)y  Dom  John  VI.,  who  first 
of  all  Portuguese  monarchs  took  \ip  his  abode  in  Brazil 
in  1.S16,  and  who  began  to  l)uild  this  enormous  palatial 
structure  on  money  received  from  that  empire,  intend- 
ing it  to  ]je  the  most  splendid  palace  in  luinjpe.  It  is 
situated  in  the  suburbs  of  IJsbcm  on  a  sterile  height, 
and  is  approached  through  streets  full  of  squalor  and 
poverty,  which  in  Portugal  are  as-  great  as  the  squalor 
and  poverty  of  any  other  spot  on  earth.  It  stands  on 
this  connnanding  height,  to  be  .seen  by  the  voyager  as 
he  enters  the  Tagus.  It  is  built  of  white  marble,  and 
preser\-es  its  wliiteness  ([uite  reniarkably  for  this 
lalitu<le.  It  is  only  one  third  of  the  size  designed  for 
it  by  tile  extravagant  king,  and  appears  like  a  ruin 
— or  rather  an  imitation  of  a  ruin,  after  the  order  of 
the  anti<[ue  furniture  m;iiuifactured  in  Boston.  Prince 
Ivichiiowski  in  1S52  said  of  it :  "The  wretched  style 
of  the  last  century,  the  ugly  statues,  the  cold 
uiarl-»le — all  this  eanncA    i)lease  merely  because  eighty 


THE  AIUDA.  157 

milliotis  oicntzados  were  siK-nl  on  the  work,  and  because 
it  would  be  a  great  work  if  it  were  to  1)e  completed," — 
not  very  good  ICuglish,  1)ut  fair,  considering  the  original 
writer  was  a  Pole  and  the  translator  a  Portuguese.     It 
is  hardly  worth  while  to  describe  it,   ibr  it  is  like  all 
palaces  on  the  Continent,  big  and  cold  and  hard  and 
uncomfortable  anil  luxurious  and  preteiUious  and  as 
impressive  as  royalty.     It  has   slate  aiKulnients  and 
royal  private  rooms,  and  a  incture-gallery  and  a  numis- 
matic cabinet  and  a   library.     It  is  most   elaborately 
constructed,  and  the  woodwork  is  finished  in  a  manner 
most  .satisfactory  to  a  citizen  of  the  Ignited  States  of 
America,  that  country  which  excels  in  wooden  jxilaces 
and  in  the  best  architects  in  wood.     The  royal  apart- 
ments were  finished  about  the  time  of  the  marriage  of 
Dom  Luis  to  Maria   Pia,  the  now  widowed  Oueen,  in 
iS6i,     They  have  in   the  ceiUre  a   marble  hall,  which 
separates  the  apartments  of  the  two  sovereigns  ;   rooms 
beatUifully  furnished  and  decorated,  adorned  with  vari- 
ous marbles,  green  and  blue  silk  hangings,  floors  inlaid 
with  woods  of  various  hues,  and  a  few  j)ictures  of  local 
interest.      There   is   a    silver  model   of  the   last    tomb 
erected  to  the  memory  of  Dante,  presented  by  the  peo- 
ple of  Raveiuia,  where  the  great   poet  died.     A  small 
Madonna,  by  Perugino,  does  somewhat  to  redeem  what 
art  there  is  ;  for  a  large  galler>  is  filled  with  jiicturesof 
the  I'"lemish,  the  Lombard,  the  Dutch,  the   I-'lorentine 
.schools,  so  designated,  I  suppose,  in  order  to  save  the 
personal  responsibility  of  the  artists  who  painted  them, 
many  of  whom  I  pro! nibly  never  heard  of.     When  the 
artists  are  named    I    find   myself  in    e(|ually  profound 
ignorance  ])y  my  own    fault  or  theirs.     Tiie  interest  of 
the  virtuoso,  however,  is  kept  up  by  man>'  rare  articles 


15S  A  Yr.Af<  IN  PORTUGAL. 

of  vcrtu,  such  as  silver  latikanls,  ])aptismal  fonts,  ex- 
quisite caljinets,  curious  furniture,  and  rare  old  por- 
tieres. In  the  room  I  first  entered  arc  pictures  of  Dom 
Pedro  v.,  the  young  brother  of  Dom  Luis,  \vlio  died 
in  1861,  and  of  his  young  Queen,  Stephanie,  who 
died  about  the  .same  time, — the  King  a  fresh,  handsome, 
slender  youth,  and  his  Queen  a  tall  and  beautiful  girl, 
quite  in  contrast  with  many  in  her  line.  In  the  throne- 
room  o])pposile  the  throne  are  the  pictures  of  I)om  I'er- 
nando,  a  tall,  slender,  athletic  gentleman,  and  of  Maria 
Gloria,  his  Queen,  who  died  earl> — a  sturdy,  .solid  .spc- 
cimeti  of  the  ]5raganza  blood; 

When  the  Prince  of  Wales  visited  the  King  here  not 
mail}'  years  ag(j  an<l  lodgv-d  in  the  Ajuda,  tlie  streets 
which  led  to  the  jjalace  were  lined  with  heavy  fir-trees 
set  in  the  ground  along  tlic  way  in  fonn  of  a  fine 
avenue,  which  it  was  supposed  to  be. 

To-morrow  ends  our  summer  in  Cintra,  and  I  shall 
leave  it  with  great  regret.  I  have  already  come  into 
Lisbon  to  i>rep.'ire  for  the  coming  of  my  family.  It  is  now 
evening  and  it  is  most  beautiful.  TVom  the  tall  windows 
of  my  rooms  at  the  liragan/.a  I  can  look  out  on  the  broad 
river,  which  swells  out  into  a  bay  and  makes  the  harbor 
of  Lisbon.  High  above  rides  the  moon,  with  a  silver 
light  intensined  by  this  clear  and  sparkling  air,  which 
seems  to  cl.arify  everything  it  surrounds,  and  attended 
V>y  a  glowing  evening  star,  which  is  gradually  with- 
drawing from  its  great  rival  and  sinking  into  the  west. 
The  harbor  is  brilliant  with  lights  from  the  many  ves- 
sels floating  there.  And  far  away  .stretch  the  shores, 
lying  all  along  the  hori'/.on  like  great  reposing  monsters 
watching  the  be.iuty  of  heaven  and  earth.  Tlie  scene 
is  most  charming,  and  is  increased  in  beauty  l)y  that 


MR.  tMliRSON.  159 

unaccountalile  force  whicli  in  lliis  rcigon  makes  the  sky 
bluer  and  the  sea  more  sparkling  and  the  land  more 
mysterious  and  the  stars  l)righter  and  the  moon  more 
luminous  than  can  he  found  elsewhere,  I  believe,  on 
earth. 

I  have  been  reading  once  more  the  life  of  Mr.  Ivmer- 
son  by  his  .son.  All  day  I  h.ave  lived  in  the  book. 
The  more  I  study  him,  the  more  I  admire  and  wonder, 
and  am  puzzled.  I  knew  him  well  and  saw  him  under 
interesting  circumstances.  I  knew  him  first  in  the 
Town  and  County  did),  that  strange  col'icctioii  of 
transcendentalists  and  unl)elievers  and  theorists  which 
gathered  in  IJoston  .so  many  years  ago.  lie  always  con- 
gratulated me  on  a  little  speech  and  repartee  I  made  in  a 
debate  there.  I  heard  liim  deliver  his  famous  Divinity 
Hall  address  to  the  divinit}'  students  in  1S3S,  and  lean 
hear  now  his  opening  words  :  "  In  this  refulgent  sea.sou 
it  has  been  a  luxury  to  draw  the  breath  of  life  '';  and  I 
remember  how  fiscinated  I  was  by  his  .sweet  humanity 
and  bewildered  by  his  unorthodox  theology.  I  recall  the 
clear  cold  winter  evening  in  Andover  when  I  read  '*  Na- 
ture" to  a  gentle  old  .schoolmaster  in  the  third  slor\-  ( )f  the 
tall  lumse  next  to  my  father's,  with  a  glowing  fiie  and 
bright  candles,  waiting  for  this  dear  old  jK-dagogue  to 
find  out  what  my  book  was  and  who  was  the  author, 
and  achniring  the  fervor  with  which  he  at  last  ex- 
claimed :  "  Why,  that  must  be  '  Nature.'  the  book  Mr. 
Ivnierson  wrote."  I  lemember,  too,  how  we  rejoiced 
in  its  fine  i)hilosophy  and  sweet  .sentences.  I  can  sec  the 
gentle  and  uncomi)romisiug  pliilosopher  and  i)oet  sit- 
ting at  John  Chapman's  table  in  London  with  his  fine 
face  and  his  charming  words.  I  have  not  forgotten 
our    trip    lo    Chalsworth    and    .Stralfoid-on-Avon    and 


ir/)  A  yi;AR  in  vouiiuim. 

Jilc-nheiin,  togcth' r,  on  a  warm  ]'"iiy;lish  summer  day, 
nor  our  voyage  home,  when  he  devoted  himself  to  a 
weil-kuown  Lowell  spinner  for  facts.     And  I  still,  look 
back  on  a  lecture  I  gave  in  Concord,  on  I^urope  in  the 
Nineleeiilh  Centur}-.  in  which  I  described  the  uprisings 
in  I'rance  and  ICngland,  and  ventured  to  predict  that 
rei)iiblics  were  a  great  wa\'  off  in  ICuroje — a  prediction 
not  far  out  (;f  the  way  that  year  ;  and  as  I  look  back  I 
can  hear  Mr.  iCmerson,  as  we  sat  in  his  study  after  the 
lecture,  admiriiig  my  ]Mctures  but  doul)ling  my  conclu- 
sion-,     i\nd  so  I  ))a\-e  scrii  ;i  ynm]  Aca]  of  Mr.  Jvmerson, 
and  I  always  felt  that  lie  knew  viry  lilllc  how  nui<  h  I 
h>  nip;itlii/ed  with  him  and  how  much  inlliK  nci-  he  harl 
owr  nic.     I  lis  !i.  sthclic  lo\e  of  n.iliuc,  w  hich  made  him 
rejoice   in  a  bare  hillside   with    slumps  .and  briars   and 
cinclers,  antl   in  a  growing  c-rop  ;ind  a  shady  nook,  was 
in  me  a  practical  riality,  which   moved  me   as  it  did 
liim,  but  with  the  addition  of  a  farmer's  cousider.ation 
(A  the   value   of  the  scenes  he  loved,     Xatiu'e  to  him  ■ 
meant  God  ;  to  me  it  meant  also  the  rule  God  gave  man 
over  the  fowls  of  the  air  and  the  beasts  of  the  field.      I 
\u)derstood  hissiile  ;  but  lie  did  not  (juite  care  for  mine. 
]Ie  feared  the  \ioleuce  of  the  early  reformers,  while  he 
accepted    th.eir    faith.      I   rememljer  hearing   him    and 
Wendell    Phillips    and     James     h'reemau     Clarke    one 
evening,  in  Mechanic  Hall,  vSalem,  sjjcak  on  the  John 
brown    >t:ugg!e    in    Virginia.       Phillips    was   heroic  ; 
Clarke  thought  I'.rown  was  e<pial  to  Chri>t  ;  ICmerson 
thou;.dit  his  fiith  great  ;nid  his  motives  g<jod. 

( )r  lh<-  bc.iuty  of  his  life  till  re  ran  be  but  oik;  ojiinioii. 
'i'!!:it  he  p  iM  .(  d  to  cull  .\i\f\  \]\f  effect  of  his  tca<hin^.;S 
tJM'ie  may  b<-  smii;c  dotibt.  When  Mr.  l',merson  <Ie- 
cluied  his  unbelii-l' in  the  usually  :ic<x-plc(|   si;.;niricance 


Mr.  EMIiRSON.  l6l 

of  the  T.ord'.s  vStippcr,  lie  wouiulcd  severely  a  Christian 
connnuiiily,  niul  kd  a  liost  of  freethitikers  into  a  con- 
fused mass  of  doubt  and  unbelief,  while  he  himself 
advanced  into  a  divine  and  inspired  world  of  his  own, 
which  he  was  a])le  to  create  and  comprehetid.  And 
when  he  had  left  the  ordinances,  and  erected  a  Chris- 
tianity of  his  own,  he  really  found  his  first  inspiration 
in  the  example  and  teachings  of  Christ.  All  of  his 
utterances  were  drawn  from  Christ's  thoughts  and 
words.  Nothing  that  he  ever  said  or  wrote  was  in  any 
way  ajitagonistic  to  the  spirit  of  Christ.  And  I  am  by 
no  means  sure  that  he  would  ever  have  reached  the 
height  of  his  trinsceiwknlal  faith,  or  have  recognized 
the  iinier  light  of  his  own  soul,  if  his  ehildliood  and 
youth  had  not  been  guided  and  formed  by  tlie  influence 
of  a  Christian  mother,  in  the  fnnily  of  a  i)ious  Christian 
minister.  How  sweetly  he  dreamed  and  thought,  and 
how  finely  his  nature  recognized  all  that  was  honest 
and  brave  and  beautiful  about  him.  Honesty  as  blunt 
as  a  ledge  of  rocks  he  admired  ;  and  the  ]x)ssessor  was 
clothed  by  him  with  a  robe  of  beauty.  His  admiration 
of  the  rural  society  in  which  he  lived,  was  his  admira- 
tion of  .-\n  ideal  comnnniity  whose  nearness  to  nature 
in  the  fields  ;nid  woodlands  won  his  nature-loving 
heart. 

Standing  alone  as  he  did,  he  became  the  most  acute 
obser\-er  of  the  workings  of  tlie  human  mind.  He  put 
int(»  wonls  what  most  men  hardly  dreain,  much  less 
sh;ipe  into  thoii-lii.  His  idr;d  w.is  high  ;  lijs  fiith  in 
mm  w;is-grr:it,  And  so  this  m.in  thought  gieat 
tlMMij'.lits,  and  l.ii(l  down  a  lolly  path  of  duty.  It  isnot 
MUprising  th;it  llie  community  in  Concoid  uorshippc-d 
him.     He  was  to  them  the  ]>uresl  man  tin  earth;  and 


162  A  Yl'AR  IN  I'UKIU'iAL 

lie  made  llicin  iK-licvi-  llicy  were  as  ]»ure  fuul  g<^ocl  as 
he  was.  And  so  it  was  lliroiighout  the  country. 
Peo[)lc  learned  tliat  here  was  a  man  modelled  after  the 
order  (;f  Christ.  When  tliey  saw  him,  his  face  shone 
as  if  he  were  an  angel.  When  he  spoke,  he  had  the 
calm  and  positive  t<Mie  of  an  oracle  ;  and,  while  they 
understood  not  all  he  said,  they  believed  in  him,  and 
I)rayed  to  be  like  him. 

Now,  Ikjw  great  an  influence  he  has  exerted  on  man- 
kind I  He  uiidoiihtedly  did  his  share  of  liberalizing 
the  Christian  comiminity,-— a  work  which  has  been 
g(;ing  on  with  surprising  force  in  these  Later  years. 
But,  while  Channiiig  and  Ware  and  all  their  followers 
have  left  fixed  beacons  ruid  guides  and  defniile  beliefs, 
to  which  all  men  are  drawn,  Ivmerson  st.ands  as  an 
outside  force,  i)re])aring,  ])erhaps,  the  minds  of  men  to 
accept  the  i)urest  faith.  He  will  be  retu'.-mbered  as  an 
acute  thinkc";  a  great  l)oet,  of  sudden  and  short-lived 
in^pir.'ilio!!  ;  a  purifier  (;f  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men  ; 
but  h.ardly  ai  a  fovnider,  or  a  lea<ler,  or  a  creator  f)f  a 
devoted  and  rcMjlule  sect,  whose  influence  is  so  great 
that  their  existciiee  becomes  imj>ortant  t(;  society,  or 
the  vState.  or  the  Church. 

I  think  Mr.  ICmerson's  tale  of  his  father's  labors  as  a 
lecturer,  is  ]KUhetic.  A  delicate,  thoughtful,  educated, 
refined  philosopher,  from  necessity,  as  he  thinks,  ex- 
])oses  himself  to  the  discomfort  and  danger  of  hard  and 
long  winter  travel  ;  to  the  "bed  and  bo.ard  "  of  human 
liabitations  hardly  worth)'  of  the  name  ;  to  conversation 
and  intimate  rrl.ations  with  the  ignorant,  the  curious, 
and  the  mercenary  ;  and  suffers  those  longings  which 
every  f ither  feels  when  absent  from  his  own  fireside, 
and  wears  himself  out  in   a  ser\-ice   which   belongs  to 


MR.  HMCRSON.  163 

tliosc  who  make  it  their  business  to  entertain  the  public. 
Tlic  <leV()tion  was  su])linie.  Tlie  work  itself  does  not 
present  a  cheering  picture.  It  grieves  one  tliat  so 
sweet  a  S(ju1  should  have  been  exposed  to  the  trials  of 
such  a  life.  The  audiences  who  listened  to  Mr.  ICnier- 
son — what  of  them  are  alive — can  never  know  the  toil 
their  teacher  endured  ;  nor  can  they  ever  be  grateful 
enough  for  the  opportunity  they  enjoyed  to  listen  to 
his  teachings. 

I  h.'ive  looked  in  vain  for  such  a  man  as  I''mers<^)n  in 
all  the  ann.'ds  of  l*<;rtugal.  Heroic  poets,  warriors  of 
fleeting  fame,  dev(;tees  to  the  Church,  coiupierors  and 
ex])lorers  the\'  have  here  in  abundance,  for  a  thousand 
years;  but  no  man  has  taught  the  truths  of  "divine 
philoso])hy  "  in  the  Portuguese  tongue,  and  no  man 
lias  achieved  that  fune  which,  because  of  its  spiritual 
meaning,  is  innnortal. 


CIIAPTI:!?,    IX. 

iisi'.oN.— I  hi:  s(,)nAi)i^(  jn.-'iih:  acclamation,— 
'iiii;  I'Ai.Aci  s.— iiii;  i)iNNi;u,— Tin:  kin(i, 

Dnciiibcr  J<;lli. — TIk-  brilliant  days  still  eoiitiiuic. 
While  the  theriii'^inctcr  is  twelve  dej^rces  below  zero  in 
New  J'.iij^hind,  and  NUow-drifts  fdl  the  valleys  of  Ari- 
zona, ruid  Constantinople  is  bnric-d  in  a  licax'N'  winter 
storm,  the  days  lu're  are  refulj;ent — not  too  warm,  l>ut 
fre^h,  brisk,  cool,  and  invi^'oratini;.  The  j;rcat  event 
is  the  arrival  of  Doni  Pedro  and  his  royal  family,  and 
we  I'.avc  resigned  onr  ample  snite  of  apartments  at  the 
Bragan/.a  for  the  exiled  court,  and  are  contenting 
onrselves  with  humbler  quarters.  Last  evening  \vc])aid 
our  respects  to  tlie  ICmperor.  We  found  him  in  his 
drawing-room  with  the  ICniprcss,  Count  d'Ku  and  the 
Countess — the  former  a  grandson  of  I.ouis  Thilippe, 
and  the  hitter  the  daughter  of  Doni  Pedro.  The 
]Cmperor  looks  very  old,  aged.  The  lirightne.ss  of  his 
face  is  gone,  his  e\e  is  dim,  his  hair  a!id  beard  are 
snowy  white,  lie  inquired  after  Alexander  Agassiz 
and  Onincy  Shaw,  and  recalled  his  interviews  in  1S76 
with  J'hnerson,  Longfellow,  and  P.ryant,  and  talked 
nnieh  of  Agassiz,  with  whom  1)C  became  veny  intimate 
<luring  the  expedition  to  the  Ama/.oti,  lie  gathered 
his  thoughts  with  diffu-nlty  and  did  not  speak  P'.nglish 
as  well   as  I  expected.      The  Ctnuit    d'lvu   was  very 


LISBON.  t65 

demonstrative  about  Brazil,  His  account  of  the  flight 
of  the  family  and  the  condition  of  the  new  republic 
was  ,i;rapliic,  Tlie  former  was  hurried  away  with  very 
little  ceremony,  and  the  latter  was  hurried  in  with 
little  order.  His  description  of  lirazll  is  not  encour- 
aj;in^.  There  are  twenty  provinces  now  called  states 
by  tlie  new  government ;  some  of  them  are  distant  from 
Kio  more  than  tliirty  days  by  steamer,  along  the  coast 
ami  up  the  rivers.  In  many  of  these  stales  there  arc 
no  jiciMiU'.  <-apable  of  orv,ani/.ing  a  gox'ernmc'ut,  and 
none  to  rej)resent  tl'em  in  a  federal  congress.  The 
negrcKS  are  indolent  :iiid  ignorant,  living  on  the  natu- 
ral ])ri)<lucts  of  tlie  soil.  He  was  (juite  emphatic  in  his 
statements.  Perbaps  I-'onseca  woubl  tell  a  different 
.story. 

Tile  Ivmpress  is  very  feeble.  The  Countess  d'Eu 
is  a  most  agreeable  person,  with  a  strong,  amiable  face 
and  a  cordial  manner.  I  can  easily  imagine  her 
emancipating  the  slaves,  but  I  cannot  conceive  of  her 
•lisposition  to  usvirp  a  government.  The  two  yout'.g 
sons  bore  themselves  well,  and  I  was  quite  impressed 
with  the  Confidence  with  which  they  recei\ed  the 
kisses  of  the  elderly  persons,  who  raised  their  princely 
hands  to  subject  lips  and  bent  their  knees  when  the 
little  ones  left  the  room. 

The  young  Portuguese  prince,  Dom  Manoel,  was 
christened  yesterday,  at  Belem  Palace,  now  occupied 
by  the  King  and  royal  family.  The  witnesses  were 
the  iliplomatie  corps,  the  members  of  the  court,  and 
the  ministry.  The  Queen  Dowager  looking  very 
lonely  and  i)ak',  the  King  looking  gratified  and  satis- 
fied, the  e.\-I'!mperor  of  llra/il  looking  old  and  worn 
out,  the  Count  de  Paris  looking  cool  and  unemotional, 


166  A  YHAR  IN  rORTUGAL. 

and  the  young  and  deliberate  Doni  Affonso,  were  the 
mcnibers  of  the  royal  family  jiresent.  Count  Sabugosa, 
clothed  in  a  long  ecclesiastical  cloak  spangled  with 
silver,  bore  the  little  prince  from  one  point  to  another 
in  the  room  at  the  various  steps  in  the  ceremony, 
which  lasted  about  an  hour.  The  Patriarch  per- 
formed the  service,  and  the  benignant  Nuncio  was 
present.  The  name  of  the  prince  is  Manoel — that  is, 
Manocl  is  the  one  out  of  the  twenty  by  which  he  is 
to  1>c  calk'd.  Dom  Carlos  was  very  cordial  toward  the 
old  deposed  ]Cmi)eror,  and  crossed  the  room  with 
a  very  warm  smile  to  take  the  feeble  and  venerable 
personage  from  the  diplomatic  to  the  royal  circle. 
The  Queen  was  not  present. 

I  received  to-day  the  following  note  from  WHiittier: 

"Mv  Di:ak  1"kii:ni)  : 

"  Tl  was  .1  very  iK-autiful  rmd  filling  tiling  for  the  Minister 
of  the  United  Slates  at  Lisbon  to  olTer  liis  apartments  to  Dom 
Pedro — the  ijoblc  ex-I'mperor  ulio  carries  with  him  into  retire- 
ment the  love  and  resjiect  of  the  world.  Will  thee  j^ive  him 
my  siiuerest  love  and  tell  him  that  were  o;ir  dear  Lonj^'fellow 
living  he  would  join  me  in  affKtioiiale  rememhrances. 
"  I  am  faitlifully  tliy  fiicnd, 

"JOUN    (;,  WJII'ITII-K." 

The  Kmperor  h.as  gone  to  Coiml)ra  and  Oporto, 
having  been  notified  tliat  the  revdutionisls  in  Ih'a/.il 
liad  declared  that  he  could  not  return  {<->  his  empire, 
and  that  his  stipend  on  tlic  civil  list  of  j^^rxj/Kxj  is 
withheld.  lam  half  inclined  to  think  that  if  he  had 
devoted  himself  to  a  standing  army  instead  of  a  library 
he  might  have  ruled  his  empire.  But  then  Whittier 
and  Ivongfellow  woidd  not  have  been  with  him. 


THE  SQUADRON.  167 

The  United  States  Squadron  of  Ivvolution,  having  left 
the  festivities  ajid  attentions  of  New  York  and  Boston 
behind,  sailed  on  the  morning  of  Dec.  23d  into  the 
Tagus, — with  the  exception  f)f  the  Yorldoicn,  which  was 
left  in  niid-occan,  mi  account  of  an  accident,  to  seek  ref- 
tige  in  Fayal.  Tlic  white  fleet  shoue  among  its  dingy  as- 
sociates in  the  harbor,  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  floated 
with  a  triiunphant  air  on  the  brce/e.  The  usual  cour- 
tesies were  exchanged  between  Admiral  Walker  and 
myself,  and  the  officers  of  the  ships  were  welcomed  on 
shore  to  an  American  <linner,  and  to  an  American 
reception  l)y  Mrs.  Coring,  who  gathered  into  our  rooms 
at  the  Braganza  a  brilliant  assembly  for  a  "  five  o'clock 
tea."  The  guests  at  the  dinner  given  to  the  Admiral 
and  his  officers  were  Captain  O'Kane,  of  the  Ihnlon  ; 
Captain  Howell,  of  the  Atlanta:  Connnodore  Chad- 
wick,  of  tile  Yorklou'H ;  Captain  Reed,  Conunander 
Rush,  and  Captain  Robeson,  of  the  Chicai^o  :  Klag-Ivieu- 
tenant  Staunton,  of  the  Admiral's  stafT;  the  Minister 
for  I'oreign  Affairs,  the  Minister  of  the  Marine,  the 
Nuncio,  the  JJritish,  I'Vench,  Russian,  Belgian,  .Swed- 
ish, and  Si)ani.sh  Ministers,  and  the  Brazilian  C/iar^r. 
All  natifjus  agree  in  ;i  diciiu,  and  in  good  wines,  and  in 
a  well  decorated  table  ;  and  in  this  taste  vSassetli,  the 
landlord  of  the  Braganza,  with  his  ])r<jfusion  of  fiowers 
and  his  antique  gold  dinner  service  and  his  great 
dining-room,  maintained  the  re])Utation  of  his  nation- 
ality. Mrs.  I/)ring  was  seated  with  the  Minister  for  For- 
eign AlTairs,  Senhor  Barros  Gomes,  on  her  right  hand, 
and  the  Nuncio  on  her  left  ;  while  I  was  supported  by 
Admiral  Walker  and  tlie  P.ritish  Minister.  The  .scene 
at  the  table  was  very  brilliant,  witli  the  imiforms  of  the 
naval  oflicers  and  the  decorations  of  the  foreign  ministers. 


t6S  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

For  myself,  I  pcrroniied  the  part  of  toastmaster  as 
well  as  iK^st.  StaLini^  that  I  had  no  desire  to  make  an 
after-dinntr  speeeh,  or  to  place  any  gentleman  under 
the  necessity  of  responding  to  my  call,  unless  liis 
palri(Aic  emotions  or  his  natural  enthusiasm  should 
compel  him  to  speak,  I  did  tliink  tlie  occasion  called 
for  certain  recognitions  which  I  would  present  in  the 
form  of  sentiments.     And  so  I  gave  : 

"  First,  the  health  of  His  Majesty  Dom  Carlos  I.,  in 
whose  dominions  we  have  met. 

"  v'^ccond,  the  health  of  the  President  of  the  I'nited 
States,  under  whose  flag  we  have  as>emblcil. 

"Third,  the  Admiral  of  the  United  vStates  vSquadrou 
of  Hvolution,  engaged  in  a  work  t»f  instruction  ;  a  good 
teacher  in  times  of  peace,  and  a  brave  conuuandcr  in 
time  of  war.'' 

Senhor  liarros  Gomes,  the  Minister  for  Foreign 
Affairs,  rose  innnediately  and  made  a  very  neat  and 
friendly  speech  to  the  toast  of  "  Tlie  President "  ;  and  I 
announced  that  the  intellectual  part  of  the  feast  was 
(ner. 

Drrrmhcr  2<SIIt. — The  ceremonies  of  coronation  and 
acclamation  (jf  the  King  Iiave  taken  ]>lace  to-day.  The 
fact  that  these  royal  ceremonies  have  been  described 
often  by  those  who  have  witnessed  them  in  almost 
every  ]uiro])ean  coinitry  does  n(;tfleter  me  from  sketch- 
ing the  iiielh(;ds  by  which  an  heir  to  this  ancient  throne 
is  elevated  to  his  j)lace  of  power.  There  may  be,  lliere 
luidoubtedly  are,  more  im])ONing  disj)Iays  than  those 
v.hich  attend  the  seating  of  a  king  on  the  thnjiie  of 
Portugal  ;  and  we  cannot  help  recalling  the  imi)ressive 
gathering  of  wealth  and  power  and  genius  for  rule 
which  collected  around  the  young  (^ueeu  of  England 


THE  ACCLAMATION.  169 

more  than  fifty  years  ago,  when  the  statesmen  and  cap- 
tains who  had  made  her  kingdom  great  and  powerful 
crowned  her  and  blessed  lier  with  the  loyalty  of  vSons 
and  the  afTection  of  parents.  But  this  was  Portugal, 
the  tragical  little  kingdom,  with  an  ancient  record  of 
wealth  and  power  which  all  the  modern  conuucrce 
of  Ormuz  and  the  Ind  cannot  equal,  with  a  history 
of  maritime  adventure  whicli  outshines  the  conquests 
of  Hastings  and  Clive,  with  aimals  of  wars  who.sc 
horrors  and  whose  bravery  and  chivalry  are  not 
overmatched  by  Marston  Moor  and  Naseby, — Por- 
tugal, which  preserves  still  the  remnants  of  its 
ancient  grandeur,  and  its  obligations  to  the  Church  and 
State  which  the  greatest  of  its  Johns  atul  AlTonsos 
would  recognize  were  they  to  return  to  the  land  of 
which  they  were  so  proud. 

The  day  of  the  coronation  has  been  charming,  Krom 
the  warships  which  were  riding  in  the  harbor  of  Lisbon, 
and  from  all  the  forts,  salvos  of  camion  aimounced  the 
rising  of  the  sun  which  illumined  the  imposing  scene. 
The  waters  of  the  river  sparkled  with  the  brilliancy  of 
a  bright  winter  day  ;  the  far-off  mountains  of  tlic  Arra- 
bi<la  were  more  imposing  and  solenm  than  ttsnal  ;  the 
gray  walls  fjf  Lisbon,  so  sombre  and  col<l,  seemed  to 
assume  a  little  light  and  life  for  the  occasic^n.  The  flag 
of  the  United  States  streamed  from  the  masts  of  the 
beautiful  .sfpiadron  of  the  Republic,  and  the  ensigns  of 
iCngland,  and  Germany,  and  vSpain,  and  Portugal  float- 
ing together  showed  that  for  the  hour  at  lenst  there 
was  national  harmony  and  peace. 

At  eleven  o'clock  we  left  the  Hotel  IJragan/.a  to 
witness  the  proceedings,  atid  the  youthful  e\es  of 
Hildreth,  the  boy  of  the  family,  for  whom  the  pageant 


170  A  YI;AR  in  I'OKTUCJAI.. 

Iiad  great  fascinalictti,  allowed  no  (Utail  to  escape  ns, 
Aviiile  his  pen  has  Ikvm  busy  with  the  recital.  We 
turned  fn^ni  the  charming  scene  before  onr  windows 
where  in  the  morning  hours  we  had  admired  the  river 
and  the  ships  and  the  mountains  beyond,  and  drove 
through  the  Rna  Jaquiera,  the  Rua  Aterro  de  Uoa 
Vista,  and  a  new  street  entitled  T)om  Carlos  I,  to  the 
Cortes.  The  streets  were  lined  with  soldiers,  and  the 
narrow  sidewalks  were  crowded  with  peojde.  The 
great  halls  of  the  Palace  of  the  Cortes,  to  whicli 
we  went,  were  thronged  with  niilitary  bodies,  who 
represented  the  proviiices  of  the  kingdom,  and 
brought  w  ith  them  assurances  of  loyalty  and  devotion, 
and  the  silken  regimental  banners  of  Portugal,  on 
which  were  embroidered  in  gold  and  silver  the  arms  of 
the  kingdom.  ICntering  the  pal.ice,  we  were  ushered 
through  long  corridors  h.ung  with  Turkish  rugs  ruid 
Moorish  tajjestries,  and  gu.irded  by  ahc^stof  attend.ants, 
ushers,  an<l  marshals,  leading  to  the  J,oge  du  Corps 
Diplomatique,  where  we  foiMid  many  of  the  ministers, 
.secretaries,  mid  otltuh's  (jf  llic  differeMt  legations,  ac- 
C(;mpanied  by  the  wife  of  the  American  Minister; 
Madame  ]>ill<jt,  wife  of  the  hVench  Minister;  Madame 
WacckerOjtter,  wife  of  the  (rernian  Minister;  Mfllle. 
de  r.relle,  daughter  of  the  Iklgi.in  Minister;  Madame 
Cotta,  wife  of  the  Italiau  Secretary  of  Legation;  and 
the  fair  M.idame  Gomes,  representing  the  recent  Ivmpirc 
of  I5ra/.il.  Accompanying  the  A-merican  Minister  were 
Admiral  Walker,  with  I-lag-Lieutenant  vStaunton,  and 
Captains  Robeson,  0"Kane,  Chadwick,  and  Commaiider 
McCalla  of  the /:';//< v/rAr,  whose  uniforms  seemed  to 
attract  as  nuicli  attention  as  the  brilliant  array  of  the 
King  and  his  court.     The  galleries  o])posite  the  T/)ge, 


Till;  ACCLAMATION.  17t 

and  Ihe  flor)r  of  llic  great  liall,  \vcrc  filled  with  olTicial 
and  iniolTicial  people,  whose  generally  sotnhrc  apparel 
was  diversified  by  the  display  among  the  pcasantr>' 
of  pretty  colored  silk  handkerchiefs  and  hats  Jieatly 
and  co([uettishly  adorned. 

The  Cortes  below  presented  a  most  lively  spectacle. 
All  the  members  were  in  full  dress  and  many  in  bril- 
liant uniform.  They  formed  a  .semicircle,  in  the  middle 
of  which  the  private  entrance  and  the  aisle  to  the 
throne  were  situated.  Directly  in  front  of  the  mem- 
bers, and  ])elo\v  ns  on  the  same  side,  was  the  royal 
throne,  which  was  enclosed  witli  gorgeous  red  velvet 
curtains  embroidered  in  silver  and  gold,  and  with  long 
silk  and  lace  borders.  At  the  top  of  the  throne  the 
arms  of  Portugal  and  the  royal  escutcheon  of  the  Cortes 
were  placed,  all  in  gold  set  off  with  a  brilliant  jev.elled 
background.  After  a  somewhat  tedious  delay  the  air 
was  filled  with  martial  music,  and  the  heralds  j^ro- 
claimed  the  aj)j)roach  of  the  King  and  Queen,  with  the 
procession,  led  by  the  Master  of  Ceremonies,  followed 
by  the  Major  Doino,  the  Duke  of  Loul6,  who  is  the 
Grand  Chamberlain,  bearing  a  huge  golden  key  ;  the 
Cardinal  of  Lisbon,  the  Grand  Almoner,  the  Master  of 
the  Household,  tlie  Genlleinen-in-Wailing,  a  special 
bo(l\--guar(l  of  .Senators  and  Deputies,  and  the  PresidLiit 
of  the  Council.  After  the  attendants  luul  arranged 
themselves  in  a  double  line  to  the  throne  the  King  and 
Queen  were  announced.  Soon  the  young  .sovereigns 
entered,  the  King  a  little  in  advance  of  the  Queen,  and 
all  the  people,  together  with  the  Senators,  IX-putics, 
and  Corps  I)iplomati([ue  arose  and  bowed  low  to  them 
as  they  advanced.  It  was  indeed  an  iini)osing  sight  as 
the  royal  couiile  jxassed  down  the  long  line  of  glittering 


172  ^  YI:AR  in  F'fJl-'TI'rjAL 

courtiers.  TIk-  Kiii^^  looked  luippy,  digiiincd,  and 
fully  capable  of  pcrfoniiinj;  the  swcred  duties  about  to 
Ijc  laid  upon  bis  shoulders.  He  was  attired  in  a  band- 
scMiie  luiiforni  of  d:i.-k  velvet  and  blue  cloth,  and  on  bis 
right  bivast  be  wore  the  three  orders  of  Portugal, 
decorations  sparkling  witli  diamonds  and  precious 
stones.  ()\-er  bis  sbonlders  an  ermine  cloak  was 
thrown,  and  at  bis  side  a  splendid  sword  was  bung, 
whose  bilt  was  rielil>-  adorned  with  sapphires,  rubies, 
and  emeralds,  brought  in  former  days  from  tbe  ricli 
mines  of  Urazil. 

Tile  Queen  Amelie  accompanied  him  on  bis  rigbt, 
and  called  fortb  cheer  after  cheer  as  she  fascinated 
every  one  by  her  grace  an<l  youtbful  beauty.  The 
Queen  is  very  stately,  an<i  bore  berself  witb  a  dignity 
appropriate  to  tbe  occasion.  She  was  very  gracious; 
and  both  the  King  and  the  Queen  bowed  most  cour- 
teously to  the  Corps  Diplomatique  and  the  Senators  and 
the  peo])le.  ,She  was  attire<l  in  a  b-.-antiful  couit  dress 
of  while  satin,  covered  witb  the  richest  embroidery  in 
gold.  Her  coronation  necklace,  whicb  forms  a  part  of 
the  bereditar\'  crown  jewels  and  is  celebrated  for  tbe 
great  .size  and  brilliancy  of  its  rubies,  attracted  great 
admiration.  On  cacb  sboulder  tbe  ricb  lace  and  gold 
and  silver  triuimings  were  fistened  by  a  diamond  and 
sapphire,  cacb  of  great  size  and  beauty.  On  ber  bead 
she  wore  a  magnificent  tiara  of  (lashing  diamonds, 
and  in  ber  band  she  bore  an  exquisite  fui  adorned  witb 
emeralds  and  ])e.'uis.  Hi-r  train,  six  yards  in  lengtb, 
of  tunproisc  veUxt  embroidered  with  gold,  was  borne 
l)y  a  lady-in-waiting.  Ikbind  ber  walked  twenty 
ladies,  who  were  declared  to  be  tbe  flower  of  Portu- 
guese beauty. 


Till;  ACCLAMATION.  173 

Followiiij^  these  came  Prince  Doni  Affonso,  in  mili- 
tary uniform  with  many  decorations,  the  brother 
of  the  Kin^,  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Portuguese 
armies,  and  Duke  of  Oporto.  The  Prince  was  accom- 
panied by  tlie  Areh(hike  of  Austria. 

The  King  and  Queen  were  with  nuich  ceremony  mar- 
shalled to  the  throne,  the  golden  curtains  of  which  were 
thrown  back,  disclosing  a  magnificent  dais  and  two  royal 
chairs  surmounted  with  crowns  for  their  Majesties. 

The  sovereigns  ascended  the  ste])s  of  the  dais  and 
took  their  seats,  the  bearer  of  the  Queen's  train  going 
to  the  left  with  the  Ladies-in-\\'aiting ;  and  Doni 
AlTonso  ascended  the  step  next  to  the  King,  and,  bear- 
ing the  great  royal  sceptre,  stood  there  as  the  Royal 
Sergcant-at-Arms.  Then  the  Chand)erlain-in-\Vaiting 
presented,  on  his  bended  knee,  the  royal  .sceptre  to-the 
King.  After  this  the  Master  of  the  Household,  Master  of 
Horse,  Commander  (jf  the  Hody-guard,  Master  of  Cere- 
monies, and  Grand  Mistress  of  the  Queen's  Household 
took  their  places  on  the  highest  ste])  at  the  right  of  the 
dais  ;  and  the  Grand  Almtjuer,  Gentlemen  of  the  House- 
hold, and  aides-de-camp  of  the  King  and  the  Royal 
Standard-l)earer,  with  unfolded  banner,  were  jilaceil. 
Before  the  throne  stood  the  Ministry — Senhorde  Castro, 
President  of  the  Council,  and  vSenhor  Ikirros  Gomes, 
Minister  for  I'oreign  Affairs;  and  behind  tl'.em  the 
Councillors  of  vState.  On  either  side  st<iod  thcvSenators 
and  Deputies.     The  jiageant  was  mo>t  brilliant. 

As  .soon  as  their  Majesties  were  seated,  the  Coq)S 
Dii>lomatique,  Ministry,  and  Senators,  Deputies  and 
the  people  followed  their  example.  The  President  of 
the  Senate,  with  two  high  ofiicials  on  either  side, 
advanced,    and    presented    to    King    Doni    Carlcjs   the 


174  A  YnAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

"  Santos  Kvaugilos"  with  a  cross  laid  iipoii  it,  and  the 
King  changing  his  sccplrc  to  his  left  hand,  i)laccd  his 
riglit  on  the  book  and  Iioly  cross,  and  repeated  Article 
76  of  tlie  Constitntion,  and  in  a  lond  and  steady  tone : 

"  I  .swear  to  u])hold  the  Catholic  Apostolic  Roman 
Religion,  the  integrily  of  the  kingdom,  to  o])servc  and 
cause  to  be  ol^scrved  the  political  Constitutiini  of  the 
Portuguese  nation  and  other  laws  of  the  kingdom,  and 
to  ])r(jmote  the  general  welfare  of  the  nation  to  the  best 
of  ni}-  ability." 

This  oath  having  been  taken,  the  King  made  a  short 
speech  to  tlie  C(jrtes,  in  wliich  he  made  many  sensible 
and  forcible  remarks,  and  the  President  of  tlie  vSenate 
replied  in  the  same  manner,  and  turning  to  the  Depu- 
ties, made  aeclamati<Mi  in  the.se  words  : 

"To  the  very  high  and  powerful  and  most  faithful 
King  of  Portugal,  Dom  Carlos  I.";  to  which  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Cortes  gave  their  assent  and  declared  strict 
lioniagc  to  their  sovereign. 

As  soon  as  the  echoes  fjf  the  acclamation  had  ceased, 
the  Standard-bearer,  bearing  his  bauTier  and  bowing 
]irofoundly,  stepped  upon  the  tribune  erected  before 
the  centre  windows  of  the  Palace  of  the  Cortes,  accom- 
panied by  the  King-at-Arms,  the  Pearers  of  the  Mace 
and  vShields,  and  Heralds,  the  first  of  whom  cried  out 
in  a  loud  voice  to  the  vast  crowd  of  people  assembled 
below  : 

"  Attention  !    Attention  !    Attention  ! 
Royal  !    Royal  !    Royal  ! 
\'ery  powerful  and  most  I'aithful 
King  oC  P(jrtugal,  Dom  ('arlos  I." 

And  thus  ended  tlie  acclamation. 


THE  ACCLAMATION.  175 

When  the  King-at-Anns  liad  given  the  acclamation 
to  the  people,  the  cry  of  "  Duni  Carlos  is  crowned" 
was  borne  from  rank  to  rank,  ana  all  the  soldiers  joined 
in  a  long  and  mighty  cheer  for  the  young  sovereign. 
Soon  after  this  the  King  gave  the  signal  to  the  Depu- 
ties who  stood  around  the  throne  for  their  departure 
for  the  Church  of  vSan  Domingos. 

Having  made  most  courteous  salutations  to  the 
Corps  Diplomaticiue  in  return  for  those  they  received 
fr(«n  the  asseinbly  in  the  Logc,  their  Majesties  retired 
from  tlie  chamljcr,  entered  the  great  golden  coach  of 
state,  and  diove  to  the  cliurch  to  join  in  the  Te  Deum, 
Of  course  tlie  occupants  of  the  Loge  followed,  and 
many  of  them  "got  there  first." 

From  the  tribune  provided  for  foreign  mitiisters  in 
the  churches  when  royal  ceremonies  are  performed  an 
admirable  view  of  the  interior  of  these  sacred  .structures 
is  obtained.  The  Church  of  vSan  Domingcis  is  one  of 
the  finest  in  Lisbon.  The  walls  are  l)eautifully  sculp- 
tured ;  the  dome  and  roof  are  adonied  with  gorgeous 
tapestries  and  silken  hangings,  interspersed  with  fine 
old  Portuguese  banners.  The  floral  decorations  were 
superb  on  this  occasion.  The  pews  and  scats  in  the  nave 
of  tlic  church  were  also  decorated,  and  the  floor  was 
covered  with  a  rich  red  vchet  carpet  embroidered  with 
gold.  The  tribunes  erected  on  each  sitle  of  the  altar 
for  the  state  ofllcials  and  the  diplomats  were  also  deco- 
rated with  rich  gold  hangings.  The  church  is  a  most 
ex(iui>ile  and  eflective  piece  of  architecture,  adorned 
with  many  religious  designs  in  marble — the  sides  of  the 
altar  being  beautifully  carved  and  upheld  by  small 
pillars  wrought  in  silver  and  gold.  In  the  middle  of 
the  altar,  covered  with  fine,  white,  transparent  curtains 


17^»  A  Yr:AR  IN  I'DKTl'GAL. 

were  three  bcanliful  staUKS  in  reli.^ious  and  holy  atti- 
liuk-s,  rei)rcsenlini;  Clirist  with  the  X'iri^in  and  the 
Holy  Ghost  on  either  hand.  They  were  adorned  with 
the  most  gor;-;eous  vestments.  Above  thc-ni,  on  the 
t')2)f>f  the  nllar,  are  life-si/.e  and  miniature  .statues  of 
the  apostles  and  many  .saints,  over  all  of  which  was 
.shed  the  soft  light  of  numerous  large  tapers  and 
candles. 

vShortly  after  our  arrival   at   the   church   the  royal 
rortl'^c'  was  announced.     Looking  down  along  the  nave, 
one  couhl  .see  the  soldiers  and  the  Ko\;d  Guard  sta- 
tioned at  the  entrance  j)resent  arms  and  dip  the  royal 
b.'inners  as  the  long  ])rocession  of  ancient  coaches,  which 
h;ive  api)eared  on  all  royal  ])ublic  occasions  I  ha\-e  wit- 
nessed drew  u]) — the  great  gilt  carriages  of  state,  with 
the  crown  of    Portugal   jierchetl   high    on   their   roofs, 
and  their  wide  glass  sides  decorated  witli  gill  <lesigns, 
their  huge  fr;imes  ])onderous  with  heavy  carvings,  mid 
drawn  by  eii^ht   milk-white  steeds  richly  caparisoned 
with  hea\-ily  mounted  harnesses  and   velvet  blankets 
and   lumsings   edged   with    .^^ilver   and    gold    and    the 
crown  handsomely  worked  on  each.     The  horses  were 
ridden   by  youthful  postilions   dres.sed   in   the  King's 
livery,  while  the  ])owerless  and    imposing   coachman 
sat  in  all  his  stateliness  on  the  box  grasping  the  im- 
mense bundle  of  reins.     The   royrd   coach  cont.aining 
the   King   and  Oueen,  presenting    a    vastly  magnified 
scene  in  ''  Cinderella,"  attended  by  a  special  guard  (;f 
honor,  tw()e<pierries,  and  tri])le  fdesof  Gentlemen  of  the 
Royal  Household,  was  drawn  up  Itefore  the  entrance, 
and  the  Royal  j)air  alighted,  a.ssisted  by  a  special  envoy 
of  the  ecclesiastics  having  the  Carrlinal  and  Chapter  at 
their  head,  .and  bearing  ;i  most  sumptuous  palainpiin 


Tlin  ACCLAMATION.  177 

made  of  rich  silk  finely  worked  and  cnilx)sscd  with 
gold.  This  was  supported  by  four  bishops,  and  be- 
neath it  the  King  and  Queen  advanced  down  the  long 
nave  followed  by  a  great  procession  of  all  the  ecclesias- 
tics of  Lisbon,  as  fir  as  the  altar,  receiving  the  saluta- 
tions of  tlie  Dij^loinatic  Corps,  vScnators,  and  Deputies, 
and  a  crowd  of  high  officials  in  the  body  of  the  cathe- 
dral. Having  received  the  Papal  blessing  at  the  altar 
they  were  escorted  to  the  throne,  where  they  remained 
while  the  Te  Deuni  was  given  during  long  hours  by  a 
band  and  choir  of  great  i)o\ver  situated  in  a  gallery 
over  the  entrance. 

After  the  Archbishop  of  Lisbon  had  offered  up  the  last 
prayer  for  the  welfare  of  their  Most  I'ailhful  Majesties 
and  the  Te  Deuni  had  been  sung,  the  King  and  Queen 
departed  in  tlie  same  order  as  tliey  had  entered,  taking 
their  .seats  in  the  royal  carriage,  and  were  followed  by 
their  attendants.  The  Papal  Nuncio,  in  his  violet  cap 
and  robes,  with  his  wealth  of  splendid  jewels,  having 
received  the  homage  of  the  priests,  joined  the  departing 
jirocession. 

The  ne.xt  step  in  these  performances  was  the  recep- 
tion -of  the  city  keys  at  the  Municipal  Hall.  The 
decorations  here  were  beautiful,  tlie  great  portico  being 
profusely  adorned  with  palms,  furns,  aiul  tnipical  i>lauts, 
and  the  interior  of  the  building  being  covered  with 
masses  of  flowers,  with  which  Portugal  is  supplied 
throughout  the  year.  (")pi)ii>ite  the  entr.ance  stood  a 
thn)ne  decorated  with  military  and  royal  designs  in 
roses,  on  which  their  Majesties  sat  during  the  final 
ceremonies  of  the  C(jronation.  The  President  of  the 
Municipality  advanced  to  tlie  foot  of  the  thrt)ne,  and 
on  bended  knee  offered  the  keys  to  the  "  fiithful  ancl 

13 


178  A  yi;ak  in  vortvcm. 

august  moiiarchs."  Tlie  Kiuj;  received  the  poudcrous 
binicli,  and,  lifting  it  from  the  golden  salver  on  which 
it  lay,  signified  his  assent  to  the  guardianship  and  then 
returned  it  to  the  President,  who  followed  in  a  speech 
cxi)laining  the  ancient  custom  and  its  significance  of 
the  (obedience  and  royal  faitlifulness  f)f  the  Muin"cipality 
oi'  I,isl)(Mi.  To  this  King  Carlos  rcplictl  thai,  he  relied 
on  (he  (onfidenie,  fidrlily.  an*!  loyalty  of  the  "  C'ily 
I'athers  "  to  guard  and  protect  his  capital.  At  the 
close  of  this  interchange  of  speeches,  the  l/)rd  Mayor, 
saluting  the  King,  i)assed  to  the  balcony  and  pronounced 
the  second  civic  acclamation  of  the  King  in  the  f(;llo\v- 
ing  words  ; 

"This  Very  High,  Very  Mighty,  and  Most  I-\iillnul 
King  <;f  Portugal  Dom  Carlos  I." 

The  cheers  of  the  people  atid  sa/vos  of  cannon  con- 
firmed this  acclamation,  and  the  Kitig  and  Queen 
departed  to  their  palace  at  Pelem. 

The  reign  of  Dom  Carlos  liad  begun,  and  according 
to  the  course  of  nature  it  i)romises  to  last  for  many 
years.  He  is  1)ut  twenty-six  years  old,  in  liigh  health, 
l;appy  in  his  domestic  relations,  and  not  burdened  by 
the  cares  of  a  great  empire.  I  liave  given  this  elaborate 
account  of  the  ceremonies  of  coronation,  with  the 
assistance  of  "The  Poy's  "  keen  observatiosi,  because 
the  scene  is  uiui^urd  in  these  modern  days,  and  retains 
much  of  the  jvMiip  and  glitter  of  the  ])ast,  when  great 
display  was  a  vital  feature  of  royalty  in  the  al)sence 
of  deei)er  significance.  It  was  easy  to  imagine  Dom 
Manoel  filled  with  pride  and  loa'led  with  wealth  by  the 
discoveries  and  conquests  in  India,  passing  from  i)alacc 
to  church  and  the  great  ludl,  daz/ling  an  awe-stricken 
people,  and  assuming  the  reins  of  power.     Whatever 


THE  PALACES.  179 

may  have  been  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  so  changed 
from  the  ancient  grandeur,  the  external  emblems  still 
remained,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  deputies  of  the  peo- 
ple, the  customs  and  insignia  <jf  absolute  iniperialism 
were  paraded  and  admired.     In  hardly  any  other  coun- 
try in  luiropc  could  this  be  seen  ;  and  it  is  itnpressive, 
interesting,  and  !i<bnii;d»lc  to  witness  a  jicoplc  with  an 
nnciriit  lineage  ami  an  imposing  u-cord  preserving  the 
customs  which  were  esta!)lishe<l  in  their  days  of  power 
and  prosperity.     If  you  would  see  the  glory  of  the  past 
and  the  i)romise  of  the  present,  go  to  a  coronation  in 
Lisbon  with  its  gilded  chariots  and  its  popular  assembly. 
The  royal  family  of  Portugal  has  many  palaces  to 
which,  like    the    Persian  kings,  it  can   resort   at   the 
different  seasons  of  the  year.     They  are  all  charming 
residences,  and  many  of  them  display  great  architectural 
and  decorative  beauty.     P.elem,  to  which  I)om  Carlos 
and  his  (jueen  resorted  after  the  coronation,  and  which 
has  long  been  their  favorite   abode,   is  situated  high 
above  the  river  bank,  not  far  from  the  tower  whicli  is 
so  cimspicuous  an  object  as  you  sail  up  the  Tagus.    The 
building  was  purchased  by  Dom  John  V.  in  1726,  and 
is  built  after  tlie  maiu\er  of  a  gentleman's  residence. 
A  few  busts  of  Roman  emperors  adorn  the  walls,  and 
a  Hue  bust  of  King  Jolin  V.     The  gardens,  orange 
groves,  and  terraces  are  very  fine,  and  are  adorned  with 
a  group  of  Hercules  beheading  the  hydra  of  I,ernea,  .1 
statue  representing  the  death  of  Cleopatra,  and  one  of 
Charity,     The  comfort  and  convenience,  as  well  as  the 
beauty,  of  Pelem  are  especially  attractive. 

The  Palace  of  Das  Necessidades  .stands  also  in  the 
western  extremity  of  Lisbon,  commanding  a  magnifi- 
cent view  of  the  Tagus,   and  ci)nsists   of  the   palace 


180  A  YHAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

]>r()pcr,  the  cluirch,  and  Uk-  u])pcr  palace,  fonncrly  a 
couNX'iit.  It  was  built  by  Doiu  John  V.  on  a  spot  once 
occu])ic'l  by  a  ])oor  mechanic  who  Hcil  from  ICriccira  to 
escape  the  plaj^Mie,  and,  takinj^^  up  Ills  quarters  at 
Alcantara,  erected  a  smnll  shrine  for  an  inia;.;e  of  our 
Lady  of  Ile.'dth,  wliich  he  bronv;'it  with  him.  He 
fledieated  his  ("hapcl  to  our  Lady  under  t)je  titU:  of  "  Re- 
liever of  (Mir  Necessities."  h'or  this  itna^'je  ])oni  Jolni 
had  special  veneration,  and  attributed  to  the  prayers 
addressed  to  lier  his  rcccnery  fmni  a  d.an;.^erous  illness 
in  1742.  I-'illed  with  ^M'.ititudc,  he  erected  tlie  btiildings 
now  known  as  Das  Xeces^idades,  and  which  have 
ahv.'iNs  been  a  f;ivorite  resort  for  the  roy.'d  ftmijy,  Doni 
l''ernan<lo  nndc  this  Iii-^  Iiome,  rni'l  it  was  ln-re  that 
Dom  Au;.',usto  died  Iri.t  summer.  The  statue  of  San 
Carlo  I'»orromeo  constitutes  about  all  the  art  to  be 
found  (<n  the  spul  ;  but  the  t^ardeiis  are  especi.ally 
attractive.  The  buildin^;s  and  ;j^rounds  make  a  ^reat 
and  imposinj.^  estate. 

Tile  Palace  of  the  Aju<la,  wliich  I  have  already 
described,  !>^  now  occupie'i  by  the  Dowager-f^ueen 
M;uia  I'ia  ;  it  is  the  most  attractive  and  perfect  i)alace 
of  all  those  dedicated  to  ]'ortu;^MUSe  royalty. 

The  Palace  ui  I'cm])osta,  built  in  iy<n)  by  Catharine 
of  I5nij^an/,a,  dauy.hter  of  John  I V,  of  Portuj^al,  and 
widow  of  Charles  II.  <;f  ICnj^^land,  has  but  little  archi- 
tectural merit.  It  has  a  few  y^ood  pictures.  It  has 
been  used  f  >r  a  Ion;.;  time  .as  a  military  school  ;  and  on 
the  ^ror.nds  I)ojn  Pedro  Y.  erected  a  hoS])ital  in  memory 
of  his  queen,  Dona  ]'*staj)hania. 

The  Palace  of  Ca.xias  is  occupie<l  by  tlie  royal  family 
only  in  the  batliing  season.  The  royal  palace  at  Cintra, 
to  wliich  I  have  referred  .so  often,  is  used  as  a  summer 


Till:  PALACFiS.  l8l 

resklence  for  a  few  weeks.  And  in  the  old  palatial 
fortification  at  Cascaes,  at  once  fort  and  ])alace,  Dotn 
Luis  died  in  September  last — in  that  autunni  home  to 
whicli  he  resorted  an;uially  for  the  sea-breezes  and  the 
view  of  the  ocean,  which  his  yonthfitl  exiK-rieiice  as  a 
sailor  had  t:inj;lil  him  to  love.  The  old  I'lilice  of  the 
'relies  at  Coiiiibra,  now  deserted,  is  visited  f(»r  its  tra^dc 
history  ;  and  Mafra  is  only  nsed  ;is  a  hotel  while  the 
Kin^  shoots  in  the  royal  preserves. 

In  all  the  ^reat  cities  and  important  towns  of  Portugal 
are  the  imposing,  ;ind  in  many  cases  abaiidoned,  resi- 
dence's of  the  f)nce  prond  and  noble  families  who  upheld 
the  power  of  the  kingflom  in  the  d.iys  of  its  prosperity. 
'J'hey  tell  a  tale  of  afflntnce  and  regal  sjiletidor  which 
wa'^  n<*t  surpassed  in  the  da>s  of  tlnir  j»rosi)erity  by 
any  country  in  ICurope.  The^y  shared  with  the  monas- 
teries the  luxury  of  Portug.al.  and  witne»ed  the  social 
refinement  which  wealth  .and  cultiwUed  association 
always  bring.  A  climate  which  ga\e  twehe  months 
of  refulgence  surrounded  these  homes  with  all  the 
beauties  of  nature,  and  the  groves  and  gardens  planted 
1))-  u\i\n.  'i'lieir  literature  was  the  romantic  and  tender 
\-erse  of  Miranda  and  l\il>e\ro,  and  the  vigorons  and 
inspiring  epic  of  C.iniotns.  To  the  nobility  of  Portug.il 
its  coiuitry  owe-,  nnich  of  its  power  in  foinur  da\s,  and 
nnich  of  that  ambition  which  gave  biith  to  those  long 
and  bloody  conflicts  which  de-^trowd  iiulustry,  ])re- 
\-ented  intellectual  culture,  and  t^xhanstcd  the  tone 
and   force  of  the  peo])k'. 

Tile  King,  for  who^e  purposes  these  pahuxs  have 
been  erected,  and  for  who.-^e  friends  the  dwellings  were 
I)rovi(led.  has  gre.it  power  in  Portugal.  The  Constitu- 
ti<jn  of  the  kingdom,  after  declaring  that  Portugal  is  a 


l82  A  YHAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

free  and  independent  state,  declares  also  that  the  person 
of  the  King  is  inviolable  and  sacred  ;  and  he  is  not 
responsible  to  any  one.  He  can  adjourn  the  Cortes 
and  dissolve  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  in  cases  in  which 
the  salvation  of  the  state  may  re(iuire  it — convoking 
imine<liately  a  substitute  at  his  will.  lie  can  a])point 
and  dismiss  at  his  pleasure  the  ministers  of  state  ;  and 
can  suspend  magistrates  on  account  of  complaints  made 
against  them.  He  can  gi\-e  or  deny  his  apjMoval 
of  the  decrees  of  the  Cortes,  Apostolic  letters,  and 
other  ecclesiastical  institutions  i)rovided  by  the  Cortes. 
"The  King  consents,"  is  the  approval  of  the  decrees 
of  the  Cortes,  and  the  bills  when  signed  are  forwarded 
to  the  municipalities.  Ag;u'nst  the  \-eto  of  the  King 
there  is  no  appeal.  The  Cortes  fi.Kes  ainiually  on  in- 
formation from  the  government,  the  King,  and  his 
ministers,  the  si/.e  of  the  army  and  navy.  It  authorizes 
the  government  to  contract  h^ans  ;  au'l  establishes  the 
means  of  paying  the  ])ublie  debt. 

The  King,  J)om  Carlos  I.,  has  all  the  (juabties  to 
make  an  exerllcut  ruler.  He  has  a  stn»ng  coiisiitulion 
and  sound  h'';dlh,  an<l  llie  comjjosure  which  goes  with 
them.  He  is  fond  of  and  well  informed  iti  all  the  needs 
and  i)ro(esses  of  Portuguese  agriculture  ;  and  has  large 
interests  in  that  industry.  He  is  f^nd  of  rural  sports, 
and  is  one  of  the  best  sIkAs  in  JCurope,  He  is  not 
inclined  to  contention,  but,  judging  from  his  mtjral  and 
physical  organization,  he  possesses  great  determination 
and  force  in  an  emergency — a  quality  inherited  from 
his  mother,  Maria  Pia,  the  pride  of  the  Portuguese. 
He  is  proud  of  his  country,  and  cherishes  her  honor 
with  a  warm  ajipreciation  of  her  past  and  strong  faith 
in  l;er  future. 


TUB  DINNER.  tSj 

To  the  usual  festivities  of  this  season  have  this  year 
been  added  the  ceremonies  of  the  coronation  with  its 
fonnahties  and  banciuets.  I  had  introduced  Admiral 
Walker  and  the  ofTicers  of  tlie  scjuadron  to  the  King, 
and  lie  was  kind  cnonj;h  to  invite  them  to  the  corona- 
lion  dinner.  It  was  a  season  of  i;reat  rejoicinjj; — 
Christmas,  New  Year,  an  openint;  reign,  and  all  the 
rejoicing  that  goes  with  such  occasions.  The  weather 
was  such  as  we  find  at  this  season  in  I'lorida  ;  the  sky 
was  bright  and  the  air  as  soft  as  in  our  simthern  lati- 
tudes ;  and  as  I  sit  at  my  window  at  the  Braganza, 
with  the  rosy  western  sky  in  which  the  sun  is  just  set- 
ting casting  a  shade  of  beauty  over  the  broad  bay  lying 
between  me  and  the  far-off  hills  across  the  water,  it 
seems  as  if  the  eailh  was  busy  reconciling  those  of  lis 
who  remain  to  the  loss  of  those  who  are  gone. 

After  our  own  dinner  to  the  ofTicers  of  the  squadron, 
and  the  Te  Deum  at  the  church,  there  was  the  royal 
ba!i(|nvt  al  the  Ajuda  on  Sunday  evening,  at  which  the 
King  and  the  ministers  and  court  offici.als,  the  ofi'icers 
of  the  army  and  navy,  the  Diplomatic  Corps,  the 
Arcliduke-  of  .\nstria,  and  the  di-nitai  ies  of  the  Church 
weie  ]>ii-vnl  niunbering  a  liltle  more  than  two  hun- 
dred. 'I'he  dining  liall  al  llie  ,\jnda  is  large  and  fine. 
The  frescos  of  the  ceiling  are  superb,  and  the  tinting 
of  the  walls  is  a  soft  ashes-of-roses  color,  with  gilt 
surroundings,  which  give  great  eflVct  to  the  light  shed 
by  thousands  of  candles  from  sui)erb  cut-glass  chande- 
liers. Two  long  tables,  ruiniing  the  length  of  the  hall, 
which  is  more  than  a  hundred  feet,  acconunodated  the 
guests,  at  one  of  which,  in  tlie  centre  of  the  long  side, 
sat  the  King,  and  at  the  other  of  which  sat  the  Oueen. 
The    tables    were    decorated    witli    flowers,    and    were 


184  A  YCAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

adorned  with  heavy  j;oldcn  candelabra  in  llie  regions 
of  the  Kin}^  and  Oueen,  and  witli  lonj^  lines  of  silver 
candlesticks  stretchinj^  away  to  the  ends.  The  table- 
service  was  extremely  pretty,  of  Minturn  and  Dresden 
and  silver  i)late.  I  am  ob]i.^ed  to  confess  to  the  solem- 
nity of  the  diiuier,  and  to  compliment  the  wines,  which 
were  excellent. 

The  quests  were  of  course  attractive,  Madame  de 
Serpa,  the  wife  of  the  ex-PrLinier,  .sat  on  my  left — a 
most  cheerful  and  brii;ht  companion.  Mrs.  Loring  was 
taken  in  to  di.nier  by  the  Premier  vSenhor  Luciano  de 
Castni.  She  sat  at  the  King's  table,  directly  opposite 
to  him,  with  the  Grand  Chamberlain,  Count  Ficalho, 
on  lu.-r  left. 

After   a    two  hours'    session   at   the  tviblcs,   we  ad- 
journed to  the  thr(jne-room.  where  their  Mr.jesties  gave 
a  reception,  which   continued   mitil   c)ne  o'cloi-k.     The 
l.'idies  as  usvial   occupied  one  side  of  the  room,  and  the 
gentlemen  the  other.    Tl:e  King])assed  from  one  gentle- 
man to  another,  and  chatted  either  as  a   leader  or  as  a 
follower,  as  he  and  his  interlocutor  found  most  con- 
venient.    The  Oueen  pursued  the  same  course  towards 
the  ladies,  until  they  had  all  had  their  little  interview, 
and   then  she  wandered   away   into   the  middle  of  the 
ro(jm   to  receixe   the  gentlemen,  whom   she  called  out 
from  the  group,  or  who  ventured  to  ai)i)roach  her  un- 
bidden.     I  jnesented  Admiral  Walker  to  her,  and  they 
had   a  long  and  of  course  interesting   talk.      Later  on 
.she  received  her  guests  sitting.    She  was  magnificently 
dressed,  her  jewels  being  brilliant,  a  necklace,  tiara,  and 
brooch  of  j^reat  emeralds  atid  diamonds.     I  ler  dress  was 
emerald  velvet.     She  was  really  <piile  sj  leiidid  with  lier 
superb  attire  and  jewels  and  erect  form  and. dark  hair 


THE  KING.  185 

and   black   eyes.      Her    niaiiiicr   is   most  simple  and 
unaflcclecl. 

We  all  stood  far  into  the  night,  and  returned  home 
in  a  light  rain,  quite  exhausted.  The  Admiral  and  his 
companions  found  the  landing-gates  locked  and  spent 
an  extra  hour  or  two  in  getting  to  their  shii)s. 

jfanuajy  jsl. — To-day  we  have  had  a  New  Year's 
receptitjn  at  the  same  palace.  The  Diplomatic  Corps 
was  received  fust,  as  usual,  the  ladies  forming  a  line 
on  one  side  of  the  room  and  the  gentlemen  on  the 
other  at  an  angle.  The  King  and  Queen  walked  along 
the  lines  and  welcomed  each  person  in  a  kindly  speech. 
The  King  deplored  the  death  of  the  ICmpress  of 
Brazil,  and  spoke  of  the  revolution  there  as  sad  work. 
He  was  nuich  interested  in  the  accomit  I  gave  him  of 
Mr.  Whittier's  letter.  The  regulation  dress  on  such 
occasions  is  for  gentlemen  the  luiiform  of  his  legation, 
and  for  ladies  a  train  three  yards  in  length,  with  ex- 
tremely scanty  supply  of  dress  on  the  shoulders.  Hlue 
and  white  intermingled  are  forbidden,  as  that  is  the 
court  dress  of  ladies-in-waiting.  While  all  this  was 
going  on,  the  side  of  the  room  opposite  the  ladies  was 
filled  with  a  highly  decorated  and  uniformed  group  of 
ministers,  generals,  peers,  and  gentlemen-in  waiting, 
^\\\(^  stood  their  ground  until  the  Diplomatic  Corps  had 
been  received,  and  then  opened  to  let  them  jiass  out. 

WIku  I  left  tlie  King's  quarters  of  the  palace,  I 
went  to  the  apartment  of  the  Queen  Dowager,  and 
recorded  my  name  and  Mrs.  Loring's,  and  thence  to 
Das  Necessidades  to  record  my  own  in  the  book  of  the 
Archduke  of  Austria,  who  is  domiciled  there,  and 
thence  to  call  on  the  Germ.in  Minister;  and  finally  to 
tlie  quiet  of  my  own  room  in  the  braganza. 


CHAPTHR   X. 

BRAZIL.-nOM  PF.DRO.-FINANCIAL  POLICY.— OPIN- 
ION OF  AC^.ASSIZ.-CONTROVFRSY 
WITH    FNGLAND. 

yanuaty  lo,  iSgo. — In  tlic  Emerson  liirtlulay  Book 
which  lies  on  our  ccntrL'-lal)l(.'  are  recorded  the  names 
of  Gokhvin  vSniilh.  Jam<:s  C.  IMaine.  J.  R.  Lowell,  \V. 
W.  Story,  Iv.  IC.  Hale,  and  many  more  sij^naturcs  of 
distin;.M)i:-.li<;d  and  imjiortant  men  ;  and  amon;^  them, 
in  a  fcf  III'-  liand,  the  name.-  ajjjx'ars  of  Doui  I'cdro 
fl'AlfYintara,  1.HS5.  'Die  old  man  is  tin-  i-x-ICmpcror 
of  J{ra/.il,  who  had  abdicated  on  the  lolh  of  Dccimhcr, 
iS.Hy,  and  had  returned  to  the  Find  of  his  fathers  to 
close  one  act  in  the  extraordinary  drama  of  the  IJra- 
gan/.a  family.  To  his  {grandfather  Brazil  was  a  refuge 
of  safety  during  the  Napoleonic  wars  of  iStjj  ;  and  his 
father  held  ])ossession  of  the  throne  as  regent  during 
the  time  when  the  indepeuflcnce  of  I'.ra/.il  was  ac- 
kncnvledged,  and  a  new  empire  was  enrolled  among 
the  im))erial  dynasties  of  the  world.  It  is  true  the 
l)oliti(;d  heavens  were  stormy  when  Dom  John  the 
gran<lfather  ceased  lo  reign  ;  and  Dom  Pedro  ascended 
the  thr(;ne.  The  presence  of  the  refugee  King  of  Por- 
tugal was  exceedingly  irritating  to  the  pecjple,  and  their 
restlessne>s  continued  until  iS4(j,  when  the  ICmperor 
r)(;ni   Pedro   II.  commenced   his  reign.     The  task  he 


nUA/.IL.  187 

had  assumed  was  by  no  incaiis  an  easy  one.  The  jx-o- 
ple  liad  had  a  taste  of  freedom,  and  what  seemed  to 
tlicm  self-govennnent.  They  had  secnred  a  constitu- 
tion, liad  defied  tlie  decree  of  tlie  Cortes  at  Lisbon, 
liad  inchiced  Dom  Pedro  to  assume  the  reins  of  gov- 
ernment, and  had  defeated  an  attempt  of  the  Portu- 
guese troops  to  reduce  them  to  obechence  as  a  colony. 
The  insurgents  took  control,  held  the  power  of  the 
Council,  and  proclaimed  the  Prince  as  peq>etual  de- 
fender of  Bra/.il.  It  was  he  who  in  1S22  i)roclaimcd  the 
independence  of  Brazil,  and  secnred  for  himself  the 
l)osition  ofci.nislitiitional  Ivmperor.  Iliscareer,  however, 
was  short  and  n(A  fortunate.  He  was  a  Bragan/a  and 
a  Portuguese,  and  believed  in  the  power  of  Portugal, 
and  loved  her  ways  and  traditions  ;  and  when  he  was 
])r(»claimed  King  of  Portugal,  he  relurn(.(l  to  his  native 
country  and  the  asNO<iatious  of  lii^  >(>uth,  not,  how- 
e\er,  to  peace  and  prosperity.  lie  had  succeeded  in 
disaffecling  the  Hra/ilians,  e\en  aflir  he  had  abdicated 
the  throne  <>f  Portugal  in  favor  of  his  daughter  Dona 
Maria,  and  he  was  ])lunged  into  the  ci\il  convulsions 
of  1.S2S  in  Portugal,  when  ])om  Miguel  usurped  the 
Porluguoe  crown,  and  a  radical  Cham1)er  of  Deputies 
in  I>ra/.il,  by  their  innovations,  made  even  stormy  Por- 
tugal seem  like  a  ha\'en  of  rest.  After  failing  to  form 
a  new  ministry  and  to  restore  order  in  his  empire,  he 
.abdicated  the  throne  in  disgust,  leaving  it  to  the  heir 
apparent,  then  fi\e  years  old,  Dom  Pedro  II.,  who, 
sixty  ye.irs  after,  followed  his  ancestors  to  their  old 
home  and  to  the  charity  and  kindness  of  imperialism 
in  ICurope. 

When  Dom  Pe<lro  I.  left  Brazil  and  i)lunged  into  the 
Miguelile  contests  in   Portugal,   the  empire  which  he 


ISS  A  Yl  Al'   IN  \-()i'\\'(,M.. 

had  ])assc(I  into  llic  liaiids  of  his  infant  .son  was  in  great 
c-onHision.  A  r^^^c-ik.)'  of  llitxc  nicinhers,  a  single  re- 
gent, chosen  by  kgislati\-e  assenihlies,  an  appnxic-h  to 
tlie  foiin  of  government  i>f  the  l'nili.(l  Stales,  a  regent 
char;;e(i  with  connix'ing  at  reheilit^n  in  the  i)rovinees,  a 
regent  wlio  attempted  to  play  the  ]>art  of  monarch  and 
conflicting  councils, — all  drove  IJra/il  to  resorting  to 
the  no\el  expedient  of  declaring  the  majority  of  a  boy 
of  foniteen,  and  ])roclaiming  him  ruler  of  the  empire. 

The  i)ath  which  led  to  the  throne  was  not  promising. 
This  youth,  who  had  been  educated  with  great  care, 
and  who  had  by  nature  a  fnie  mental  cajxicity  and 
a  high  moial  instinct,  fomid  himself  surrounded  by  most 
difiicult  (piestions  of  ci\-il  jtolity  and  by  mar.y  domestic 
dissensions.  The  abolil'-m  of  the  sla\e  trade  and  the 
connneiicement  of  emancipati(Mi  claimed  hisearly  atten- 
tion, lie  inaugurate<l  extra\;igant  schemes  of  internal 
improvement,  which  have  addeil  greatly  to  the  strength 
and  importance  of  lira/.il.  He  carried  (;n  expensive 
wars  with  neighboring  states.  His  army  was  main- 
tained at  an  enormous  expense.  I  lis  resources  were 
increased,  howe\'er,  in  pro])ortion.  and  Iha/.il  was 
counted  among  the  \igorous  and  ]»rosperous  empires 
of  the  woild. 

Hut  it  was  .-IS  a  i>atron  of  letters  and  a  student  of 
science  that  I)om  Pedro  became  most  distinguished  and 
was  esteemed  by  scholars  throughout  the  world.  When 
he  appeared  in  Lisbon,  an  exile  from  his  empire,  an 
enfeebled  and  disheartened  old  man,  I  remembered  him 
not  as  the  great  ruler  but  as  the  friend  of  Agassi/,  and 
the  .scholars  of  the  United  vStates.  I  recalled  the  time 
when  the  great  scientist  took  with  him  to  I'ra/.il  a  small 
flock  of  Merino  sheep,  which    I   sent  to  the  J-'mpenjr, 


and  whicli  I  was  flattered  to  IkHcvc  would  increase  the 
wool  i)roducls  of  the  empire.  I  had  in  \uy  mind  the 
active  and  entluisiastic  observer  who,  at  the  Centennial 
Ivxhil)iti<jn  at  Philadelphia,  took  the  early  morning 
hours  for  visitinj^  the  j^aeat  hall,  and  disco\ered  by 
sim])ly  passing  his  eye  down  rui  imnien>e  column  of 
figures  that  the  secretary  of  a  school  board  had  made 
a  mistake  in  his  addition  of  the  educational  statistics 
of  his  state — an  error  which  the  ICmperor  had  discov- 
ered at  a  glance,  and  in  which  more  careful  computation 
proved  that  he  was  correct. 

While  in  Li^^bon,  ])om  Peilro  was  active  in  his 
explorations  of  the  city..  His  venerable  face  might  be 
seen  in  the  museums  and  lil)raries,  and  he  enjoyed 
gre.'itly  his  walks  through  the  /.ofdogical  garden. 

He  waited  uneasily  for  the  ]',!n5>rcss  to  recover  from 
an  attack  of  influen/.a.  and  hurried  away  with  her  to 
Coiu'.bra — a  d;uigerous,  and,  as  it  jnoved,  fatal,  journey 
to  her  in  mid-winlcr.  I  saw  him  on  his  return  to  Lisbon, 
in  the  j)rocessi<)n  at  the  funeral  of  the  I\mpress  in  the 
Ingle/.a  St.  \'incenteda  P'ora,  and  sitting  in  a  distrcs.sed 
and  distracted  way  in  the  rosal  box  over  the  altar  a.S 
the  service  was  performed  over  her  remains.  And  the 
last  I  saw  of  him  he  was  feebly  following  her  into  the 
Pantheon  prepared  for  all  the  Braganzas  here  on  earth. 
A  few  days  after  he  left  the  Palace  of  Das  Xecessidades, 
which  had  been  given  him  as  a  home  during  this  .sad 
occasion,  and  proceeded  to  the  mild  airs  atid  cheerful 
ways  of  Cannes. 

I  doubt  if  history  has  recorded  a  sadder  and  more 
interesting  and  instructive  career  than  that  of  the 
ex-l-anperor  of  Iha/.il.  He  began  life  as  a  ruler,  when 
he  should  ha\-e  Ixen  learning  to  obi-y.      He  inherited  a 


i',«)  A  vi;ak  in  i'()Kti'(}ai.. 

stormy  ciiipirc,  a  r-sUcss  people  \\\u)  were  ;i(l\;incing 
from  tlic  ^^li'.ler  and  display  and  aiilliorily  of  a  ukjii- 
arehy  to  the  freedom  and  elasticity  of  a  re])ublic.  His 
people,  Avlieu  he  commenced  his  nilc,  were  hardly  fit 
for  one  i^overnment  or  another.  Their  experience  with 
imperial  rulers  had  not  l>eeu  fortunate,  nor  were  the 
passing  events  in  that  country  whence  they  and  their 
rulers  sprang  encouraging.  Brazil  was  not  organi/.ed 
into  an  empire,  nor  was  she  fit  to  he  a  republic.  It  fell 
to  the  task  of  Doin  Pedro  to  prepare  her  for  both, — with 
what  success  the  result  now  shows.  War  during  all 
these  years  hardened  lier  for  imperial  methods — while 
educatif)n  was  cultivating  her  ])e')ple  for  a  republican 
one.  In  leaving  one  she  has  hardly  slep[)ed  into  the 
ways  of  the  other.  lint  mankind  le;irns  easily  how  to 
be  free  in  these  days,  .and  how  to  estal>lish  republics, 
but  not  how  to  return  to  m<inarchy  when  the  bonds  .are 
once  broken. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  discuss  the  chances,  or  the 
trials  wliich  threaten  Brazil,  or  the  wisdom  of  Fonseca, 
or  the  strength  of  the  local  go\-ernments  which  make 
up  tlie  union  of  lira/.ilian  states.  We  can  only  hope 
that  justice  will  prevail  and  wisdom  will  rule  aiid  per- 
sonal ambition  will  be  either  cliecked  or  guided  aright, 
and  the  lesson  of  confederation  will  be  so  thoroughly 
learned  that  d.isunion  will  not  follow.  It  is  well  enough 
to  leave  Brazil  to  her  fate  and  her  capacity  to  settle 
lier  own  problem  politically  and  industrially.  Her 
legislatures,  her  municipal  governments,  her  e<lucation, 
her  religion,  her  firms,  her  mills,  her  conunerce,  her 
finances,  all  her  economies  now  interest  the  civilized 
world.  For  her  guidance  and  instruction  she  has  the 
example  of  a  powerful  and  succes-ful  republic  on  her 


DOM  \'r.\W(\  19t 

own  hcmisplicre,  which  has  established  its  government 
on  firm  and  well-understood  fmnidations,  and  its  pros- 
perity on  the  elastie  industry  and  broad  sagacity  of  a 
free  people. 

That   the   time   had   arrived    for   a   change   in   the 
Brazilian    goveriuuent   there   can   be  no  doubt.     The 
I'imperor  was  beloved  as  a  ruler  and  rcs|K'Cted  as  a 
cultivated  .scholar,   who  had  brought  his  empire  into 
close  relations  with  the  literary  and  .scientific  associa- 
tions  of  the   world.     I  lis   devotion   to  industrial  im- 
provement  was   recognized,    and    his    humanity   and 
philanthropy   were    known    and  admired.     He  failed, 
liowever,  to  lead  his  people  out  of  the  political  compli- 
cations and  misfortunes  which  couuueiiced  in  the  early 
colonial  da>s.     I'^xclusive   in  its  relations  with  other 
countries,  with  a  population  divided  into  slaves  and 
subjects  about  equally,  oppressed  with  ignorance,  de- 
prived of  education,  the  abiding-plaee  of  a  Portuguese 
king  in  whom  the  people  had  no  interest,  Brazil  could 
neither  liold  an  imperial  attitude  nor  could  she  join  the 
neighlx)ring  South  American  states  in  their  progress 
toward  republicanism.     The  royal  family,  who  arrived 
there  in  1S07,  were  entirely  unable  to  control  affairs,  and 
in  1S22  the  regent,  proposing  to  abandon  his  post,  was 
informed   that  a    republican   party  existed  already  in 
all  the  jirovinces  of  lirazil.     From  the  time  when  IVmi* 
Pedro    I.   accepted    the  crown,    and   the  independence 
of  Brazil  was  declared,  to  iS;,i,  when  he  abdicated,  the 
nun  inurings  of  Reind)licans  were  heard  and  the  morn- 
ing light  seemed  to  be  breaking.      Day,  however,  broke 
slowly,    and   the   advent  of  Dom    Pedro   II.,    who   on 
I)(jcend)er    17th    left    the    empire    to    be    reorganized, 
lulled    the    people    into    ac(iuiescence    with    imperial 


192  A  Y1;AK   in  iHjRTl'CiAI.. 

jxiwcr,  and  into  the  hope  and  exiKctation  that  the 
evils  wliicli  weighed  upon  llicin  wouhl  be  entirely 
removed  without  any  effort  of  their  own.  Reform  and 
the  empire  seemed,  however,  to  he  incoiwpatible.  Dom 
I'edro  1 1,  desired  the  emancipation  ofthe  slaves  through- 
out his  dominions,  but  when  emancipation  came  the 
corner-stone  of  the  empire  was  destroyed.  Dissatisfied 
])lanters  ha<l  no  further  U'-e  for  that  f  «rm  of  g'jvernment. 
ICxisting  social  e\ils  were  not  so  easily  removed.  The 
.absence  of  any  civil  marriage  law  rendered  the  ceie- 
moJiy  ecclesiastical,  and  so  cxpensi\e  that  the  conunon 
people  were  de])rived  of  this  foundatif)U  <if  s(;ciety — and 
the  conse(iuenccs  are  easily  imagined.  The  distribution 
of  real  and  ])crsonal  projKrty  in  i)robate  is  discouraging, 
apparently  unju>t,  atid  in  many  ca^-cs  destructive. 
Government  in  the  provinces  has  l>een  extremely  irre- 
spojisible  and  ineffective,  the  ])residents  being  appointed 
by  the  J'.mjx-ror  and  the  legislatures  being  comjM)sed 
of  young  and  inex])ericnced  jxirtisans.  IClections  to 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies  have  been  controlled  by  the 
government,  and  the  members  have  been  elected 
throui;h  the  inlluence  of  the  im])erial  organization. 
There  has  hartlly  been  found  a  more  perfect  illustration 
of  an  empire  with  a  legislative  attachment  tlum  15ra/.il. 
In  addition  to  other  comi)]ications,  the  cotniection  of 
the  cluirch  with  the  state  lias  always  given  rise  to 
great  difllctdties,  atid  has  hardly  been  conducive  to  the 
]jrogre^s  of  the  country. 

The  financial  policy  c)f  Uie  emjiire  has  not  Ikcu  sati.s- 
factory,  T:i.xes  have  been  imposed  with  great  in- 
equality, .and  sometimes  with  ruinous  effect  upon  the 
industries.  Contrary  to  the  theories  of  many  modern 
doctrinaires,  land  when  held  in  large  estates  has  been 


FINANCIAL  r-OLlCY.  I93 

almost  exempt  froiji  taxation.  The  railway  system  of 
the  country  is  extravagantly  managed,  rates  of  traffic 
and  passage  being  exorbitant,  and  the  property  unpro- 
ductive. Nothing  has  been  done  to  develop  the  internal 
connnerce  of  the  empire. 

The  resources  of  IJrazil  have  always  been  unbounded, 
whether  of  field  or  forest  or  mine.  In  the  early  colonial 
days  the  wealth  of  precious  stones  and  metals  which 
poured  into  Portugal  was  incalculable,  and  astonished 
all  ICurope,  while  it  encouraged  the  wildest  i)nblic  and 
private  extravagance  in  the  government  and  people 
who  received  it.  Xor  is  this  wealth  i>erccplibly  ex- 
hausted. The  fortunes  now  existing  in  I'ortui^al  were 
largely  acquired  in  Brazil.  In  September,  1866,  the 
Amazon  was  opened  to  the  commerce  of  the  world  ; 
and  led  into  a  country  fertile  beyond  description. 
Agassiz,  who  visited  it  in  1S65,  was  charmed  and 
astonished  by  the  luxuriance  of  vegetation  found  on 
every  hand.  The  great  watercourses — the  Amazon,  a 
hundred  miles  wide  at  its  mouth,  and  so  broad  a  thou- 
.sand  miles  above  that  a  j)laiu  view  of  both  shores 
is  almost  impossible — filleil  him  with  amazement. 
Water  communication  affords  an  easy  access  to  the 
fields  and  forests  which  are  only  waiting  to  reward  the 
cnteq-)rising  and  industrious  .settler.  Fruits  and  nuts 
aboiuid  throughout  all  this  great  Amazon  region,  rare 
woods  of  every  description  are  easily  obtained,  and 
their  only  market  is  the  decay  with  which  nature 
disjK)ses  of  lier  surplus  products.  The  climate  is  de- 
lightful. The  thermometer  never  rises  above  90"^  and 
ne\er  falls  below  78°.  The  trade-winds  which  sweep 
across  the  Atlantic  cool  the  wide  valley  ()f  the  great 
river  to  the  very  foot  of  the  Andes,  making  day  and 
13 


194  A  YFAR  IX  TORTl'GAL. 

night  comfortable,  "Such  a  delicjous  climate,"  says 
Agassiz,  "I  believe  exists  iiowliere  else  on  earth." 
Tlie  soil,  created  in  tlie  same  manner  as  the  drift-beds 
of  New  I'aij^laiid,  "  rich  because  it  is  the  result  of  the 
attrition  of  the  most  <liversined  rocks,"  whieh  is  "the 
most  fertile  soil  all  o\(.r  the  suifiee  of  llie  earlh," 
(offers  ^Mfjit  lciiij>talioiis  to  tile  c\dli\  atoi'.  The  yjn/.ln^ 
lands  are  ni't^t  vrrdaiil.  'I'iie  natural  products  are  the 
]>a]ms,  of  e\'fry  variety,  and  all  Irnpiral  fruits  in  ^reat 
abundance  and  luxiniancr  ;  au'l  the  eulli\aled  prod- 
ucts of  the^'ii'den  and  the  field  ])iv^cnt  a  mo^t  ;4enerous 
reward  to  the  t(/il  of  the  husbandman.  The  };alh- 
erin^'  of  the  crops  there  is  now  :i  matter  of  .-iccident, 
and  tlieir  su])ply  to  t'le  maiket  is  very  irrei;ular. 
Of  deep  interest  to  us  who  hope-  for  more  intimate 
relations  between  North  and  South  America,  and  who 
have  reason  to  exiKrct  from  the  a-<embly  of  the  citizens 
of  the  two  sections  recently  or'j;ani/.ed  closer  c<jmmer- 
cial  bonds,  are  the  \iews  expressed  by  At^assi/,  at  the 
close  of  his  scientific  exploration  of  that  region  in 
1866.  lie  says:  "As  soon  as  cultivation  should  re- 
place this  accidental  gathering — as  soon  as  the  endless 
variety  of  ])roducts,  to  which  I  have  not  even  made  an 
allusion,  should  be  brought  into  the  market — I  have 
no  doubt  the  valley  of  the  Ama/on  will  be  one  of  great 
interest  to  us,  Kemend^er  that  it  will  be  more  advan- 
tageous for  our  northern  j)oi)ulation  to  go  there  to 
gather  this  wealth,  than  to  any  other  ]):irts  of  the 
tro])ical  region,  on  aecomit  of  its  ])roximity,  to  begin 
with,  and  on  account  of  the  character  of  the  climate. 
In  eleven  days  from  New  York  you  can  be  in  I'ara  ;  in 
a  f(;rtnight  after  leaving  New  York  you  can  be  at  the 
junctic)u  of  the  Rio  Negro  with  the  Amazon  a  thou- 


OPINION  OF  AGASSIZ.  195 

sand  miles  above  the  mouth  of  tlie  Amazon  ;  so  that 
it  is  at  our  door,  and  the  facilities  of  communication 
are  so  j^reat  that  we  should  take  advantaj;e  of  this 
scurce  of  valuable  Iraflic,  now  that  it  is  thrown  open 
to  all  nations,  before  others  have  taken  the  cream  from 
the  field." 

Tills  is  the  coinitry  which  has  suddenly  been  con- 
veiUd  fiDin  an  empire  to  a  republic.      I  call  it  a  repid)- 
lie  bec.'iuse  the  present  ])ri)\isi()ii;il  K"verninent  I  look 
upon  as  merely  an  inlcrni^niini,  in  which  i'onseca  and 
his  associates  are  expected  to  preserve  the  organization 
until  it  is  delivered  into  the  hands  of  their  elected  suc- 
cessors.      That    tlie    evils   of    which    I    have   spoken 
hastened  tlie  (lownfall  of  the  empire,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  —  evils  so  i;larini;  and  conspicuous  that  even  the 
mild  and  beneficent  sway   of   l)om    Pedro  could   not 
reconcile  the  people  to  their  existence.     But  I  suppose 
that  what   Dean   Plumplre   .says  of  luiropcan  .society 
is  true  of  Brazilian — that  it  "is  j^ravilatini^  to  democ- 
racy."    That  it  may  op^'anize  without  beinj;  influenced 
by  its  tr.'ulitions,  or  led  by  the  example  of  the  past,  is 
now  the  hope  and  prayer  of  every  believer  in  popular 
government.     It  takes  a  long  time  for  a  republic  to 
grow  up  on  the  ruins  of  a  monarchy.    The  old  customs 
pass  away   slowl>-,   tlie    paraphernalia    remain   a   long 
time,  the  forms  and  ceremonies  linger,  i)erliaps  never 
de])art  ;  though  the  titles  are  drojiped  the  deference  will 
not  die  out,   respectful   ease  and  familiarity  will  not 
take  the  place  long  filled  by  courtly   phrase  and  re- 
strained form    and   observance.       Love   of  decoration 
does  not    flee    away   at  the   rising    of   tlie    republican 
sun.     When    therefore    we    are    told     that    proviiicial 
presidents  in   Brazil,  when  assigned  to   the   remotest 


I0f>  A  YHAR  IN  I'OPTDGAL. 

proviticcs,  consider  themselves  sent  into  exile,  \vc  are 
encouraged  to  believe  that  there  is  a  virgin  soil  on 
which  reimblican  institutions  can  be  planted,  and 
that  from  the  frontiers  at  least  may  flow  a  liberal 
supply  of  healthy  life-bh^od  to  the  heart  of  the  new 
republic. 

It  should  be  remcmbercfl  that  we  of  the  United 
vStates  have  had  little  to  do  but  to  preserve  the  social 
and  political  doctrines  and  institutions  which  were 
declared  and  established  in  the  beginning.  All  the 
events  of  the  past  belong  naturally  and  harmoniously 
to  our  present  system.  Custom  and  ex])erience  have 
established  our  forms  and  our  laws.  It  re<[uired  no 
theory  to  inspire  our  Const' lution  ;  the  work  of  its  con- 
struction consisted  in  combining  the  results  of  succes.s- 
ful  colonial  experience,  and  so  combining  them  that  a 
familiar  aiid  well-rec(jgni/.ed  (organization  should  follow, 
liefore  the  one  direct  demand  (jf  the  great  ])ractical 
mrui  of  o\ir  constitutional  j>eriod,  all  theorists  and  d'x:- 
trinaires  exerted  themselves  in  vain  ;  the  timid  retired  ; 
the  over-wise  found  their  wisd(;m  to  be  fo(jlishness. 
Xo  more  insjtiring  ])icture  is  jjieseiited  in. all  history 
than  the  life  of  him  who,  having  led  the  American 
iirmies  throiij;h  the  I<<voliili(jn  on  to  victory,  snpcrior 
to  d<»iil»t  and  frar  and  dijiction  and  de:;cilion,  ai»plie(l 
the  strong  (jualitirs  wliii  h  m.ide  him  great  in  w;ir  to 
the  org.'uiizatifjn  of  a  form  of  governmi.iit  which  his 
exi>erience  and  observation  ha<l  convinced  him  to  be 
necessary.  With  this  demand  the  history  of  every 
colony  was  in  accord.  It  is  given  to  few  men  to  fight 
successfully  for  national  independence,  and  to  toil  suc- 
cessfully for  a  national  government,  with  all  the  en- 
couragement of  a   national   history   behind   him.      A 


CONTROVERSY  WITH  HNGLAND.  197 

republic  born  of  evolution  has  every  clcnicnt  of  success. 
Such  a  republic  had  Washinj^lon.  »Such  a  republic 
may  have  been  developed  by  Doni  Pedro  during  his 
ajslhvtic  rule,  which  ended  in  his  peaceful  departure. 

It  is  encoura^nn^;  to  believe  that  repid)lics  are  not 
nnirnrin.  Tliey  appear  like  trotlingdmrses  in  every 
variety  of  shape  ;  and  not  until  they  start  can  we  tell 
how  well  they  can  j.;<).  We  can  oidy  wish  them  well 
and  believe  in  tlieir  honest  efforts. 

When  the  royal  family  left  Portugal  for  Pra/.il  in  1S07 
the  ]iageant  which  attended  them  was  great.  A  fleet 
of  ships  of  war  attended  the  ro)  al  argosy.  A  thousand 
troops  and  attendants  innumerable  accompanied  the 
imperial  jiarty.  Tiiere  was  a  splendor  of  bands  and 
bainiers.  And  the  arrival  at  Brazil  was  a  signal  for 
most  imposing  ceremonies  and  assurances  of  loyalty. 
When  I)om  Pedro  I.  returned  to  Portugal  in  1S31  he 
too  came  as  the  coufpieri^r  comes.  And  now  we  have 
liere  his  successor,  with  whose  career  we  are  all 
familiar,  and  wh(<>e  voyage  forms  a  great  contrast  to 
those  of  his  ancestors. 

The  times  here  are  somewhat  troublous.  Tlie  con- 
troversy between  Ivngland  and  Portugal  (ju  the  iCast 
Africa  (piestion  has  reachi-d  a  climax  by  the  surrender 
by  Poitn};al  of  every  point  claimed  of  her.  It  is  tine 
it  was  done  tuider  protest  --but  it  was  done,  and  Portu- 
gal monrns  and  raj^es  alternately.  I  heard  in  the 
Cortes  yesterday  the  statement  of  Parros  Gomes  giving 
his  correspor.dence  with  the  Pritish  Minister,  and  the 
patriotic  considerations  wliicli  led  him  to  surrender, 
notwithstanding  all  the  declarations  he  had  made  in 
his  letters  to  I/>rd  vSalisl)ury.  He  did  it  \ery  well ;  his 
oratory  was  quite  impressive. 


198  A  YEAR  !N  PORTUGAL. 

Tlie  r'orUi;;;'ticsc  arc  nnUirally  very  an;;ry  o\cr  llic 
result,  I'nr  two  loii^  cvciiiii;^s  crowds  of  noisy  and 
prolfstiti^j  persons  liavc  paraded  the  streets  and  liave 
made  a  j;reat  disturbance,  tearin;;  down  the  escntclieon 
of  the  Jhitisli  Consnlate,  sloninj;  the  honse  of  Senhor 
IJarros  Ooines.  threatening;  th;it  of  the  liritisli  Minister, 
and  cheerinj;  the  fla^  of  tlie  Jha/.ilian  Republic. 
Kestdt  — the  resi^^nation  of  the  ministry  and  the  fornia- 
tK^n  of  a  new  one. 

This  morning  the  storm  seems  to  he  over,  notwith- 
standing tin;  threats  of  the  po])nlrice  last  evening;.  The 
republican  .sentiment  has  been  roused  to  a  ^reat  dei^iee 
of  excitement  ai;ainst  lCnL;Ian'l,  and  by  the  submission 
of  the  government  to  her  dcm.mds.  Last  ni^dil  it  was 
pro])osed  U>  Ki^'*^  expression  to  the  j)(>])ular  feelinj;  by 
crowning  the  statue  of  Camoeiis  and  listening  to  patri- 
otic speeches.  The  crowninv;  and  the  s[)ceches  were 
suppressed  by  a  municii)al  edict,  and  a  sullen  i)eople 
\vere  ob!i}.;ed  to  retire.  .Many  loyal  pef)])le  doulA  tlie 
wisdom  of  the  sn]M>ression.  I'erh.ips  there  was  n<tl 
mu'  h   to  siippn- .s, 

W'v  now  !ia\c  llom  lln-  >^;o\(|  iniKill  ii  joti);  drcric 
j)io\i(!in/,  for  in<  leasiii}',  and  leoi^'aiii/.iiiy;  thi' uii\'>' and 
the  ai my  ;  stren^^tluiiin^  the  forts  at  Helem  and  else- 
where ;  building;  four  lar^e  cruisers  of  three  thousand 
tons  each,  with  a  speed  of  twenty  miles  an  hour  ;  issu- 
ing twenty-dollar  l)onds  bearing  four  and  a  half  per 
cent,  interest  to  run  eighty  years,  an«l  smaller  bonds  for 
citculation  ;  manuf.K  iui  in;;  h<M\y  ofdti.uice  and  t'lr- 
])e'loeh.  In  fut,  the  litlU'  kingdom  is  going  [o  put  on 
her  armor.  I  )e  Vov,  in  "Captain  Singleton,"  says  the 
Portuguese  are  ([uite  ellk-ient  and  brave  when  they 
have  a  leader  ;  witliont  one  they  amoinit  to  but  little. 


CONTROVERSY  WITH  HNGLAND.  199 

When  I  catiic  lolhc  I,fi;ation  lliis  inornitij;  all  seemed 
peace  and  i)iosi)crily,  Alonj^  the  Kua  Terregial  de 
Uaixo— sweet  name  where  tlie  Le^'ation  is,  and  which 
runs  into  tlie  Kua  de  Alacrini,  which  means  rosemary, 
1  niel  brirefool  y;\r]s  and  w'unen,  from  fourteen  to 
fifty  \ears  old,  carrying  broad  ])askels  on  their  heads, 
four  feet  at  least  in  diaiueler,  fdled  with  bread  ;ind  cod- 
fishes ;  a  flock  of  turkeys  driven  about  to  find  a  mar- 
ket ;  three  lar^e  Ilolstein  cows  with  mu//.led  calves; 
two  heavily  la<len  donkeys  with  painiiers  larger  than 
themselves^ — ^\r\s,  women,  cows,  calves,  and  donkeys 
all  vocal.      Peace  has  returned. 

Meanwhile  Lisbon  is  as  busy  as  usual  endeavoring 
to  avoid  trade  with  Ivn^land,  askitig  how  they  can 
establish  relations  with  other  countries  contemidating 
a  larj^e  increase  of  her  conunercial  relations. 

Socially  the  town  is  not  lively.  The  opera  this  sea- 
son is  not  fascinating;.  I  sit  before  a  fire  these  damp 
winter  evenings  reading;  the  literature  of  my  own 
country.  'I'lie  st(»rm  lure  is  not  (|uite  o\er.  It  breaks 
out  in  tnicNpected  jilaces.  At  a  circus  the  audience 
J',l<  \V  fuii'Ml-*  beejHI'e  tile  II. I}',  of  I'ortUK.al  Wmm  •-.loliti 
and  liid'ltu  in  llu'  Mind  <>f  thi  arena  a  pait  <»f  the  per* 
foiniance.  When  tin-  bunting  was  um-ailhed  and  ex- 
jxjsed  in  a  soiled  and  bi-dragj^led  condition,  the  house 
rose  in  its  wrath,  and  siats,  chairs,  decorations,  doors, 
windows,  and  actors  were  sent  Hyinj;  through  the  air 
until  the  place  was  utterly  <lemolished. 


CHAPTHr^   XI. 

GIBI^\LTAR.-NAPLES.— POMPEII. -ROME. 

lifanh  jrt'.— We  arrived  here  last  evening  about 
sc\"en  c)'cl(K:k,  after  a  voyage  of  thirty-seven  hours 
from  Lisbon,  in  the  steamer  Malai^a,  a  good  little 
vessel  of  eight  hundred  tons,  with  a  fine  ICnglish  cap- 
tain weighing  many  "stone,"  and  a  steady  crew. 
For  the  first  time  for  many  a  month  I  met  joints  atid 
meal>'  potatoes  and  slices  of  bread  and  oatmeal  and 
a])i>le-i)udding  and  other  Anglo-Saxon  substantialities, 
and  I  was  rejoice'l  to  escajje  ninins  and  trifles  and  an 
"  infinite  variety."  The  weather  on  tlie  voyage  was 
brilli.'iiit.  There  was  hardly  a  cloud  in  tiie  sky,  anrl 
the  fresh  wind  tlrove  us  ah^ng  over  a  sparkling  and 
lively  sea.  The  rf)ute  is  most  interesting.  Tiie  sail 
down  the  Tagus  was  charming.  On  one  side  the  green 
hills  rose  above  the  shore  in  pieturescpie  variety,  and  on 
the  other  lay  Lisbon  with  its  uniformity  of  clay-colored 
walls,  its  scarcity  of  inrposing  buildiiigs,  and  its  auda- 
cious hilliness.  The  fine  dome  of  the  Kstrella,  the 
finest  church  in  Lisbon,  and  the  great  wide  business- 
like walls  of  the  small  portion  of  the  Ajuda  now  fin- 
ished, and  waiting  fi^r  a  return  of  Portuguese  prosperity 
and  surplus  wealth  to  be  developed  into  the  most 
commanding  palace  in  the  world,  were  the  only  at- 
tractive and  salient  points  of  the  city.     We  paused  at 


GIBRALTAR,  201 

tlic  tower  (»f  r.<.-k-tn  lo  kt  (.ft  llic  port  fifTicw  who 
accompanied  iis,  nnd  look  a  k1:i'»<-i-"  ^'it  llic  fra^Mlc 
slruclure,  which  coniljiiics  soino  i)rcUy  conceits  of 
arcliilccturc  with  Ihc  sturdy  form  of  a  protecting 
fortress  which  one  modern  broadside  would  demoHsh. 
We  sailed  out  into  the  wide  Atlantic,  between  the 
!;loomy  fortress  of  Cascaes,  where  Dom  Luis  died  last 
sunnner,  and  a  fort  on  Cape  ICspechel  whose  name  I 
have  forgotten,  if  it  has  any,  standing  r/s-o-r/s  at  the 
other  corner  of  the  moulli.  It  took  many  hours  to 
lose  sight  of  the  coast  of  Portugal,  and  it  was  after 
midnight  when  we  reached  Cape  vSt.  Vincentc,  under  a 
moon  so  bright  that  it  rivalled  the  sun  in  brilliancy 
and  in  its  sparkling  effect  upon  the  sea.  We  had  a 
r.iost  thoroughly  Anglican  company  on  board  the 
steamer,  a  captain  with  the  good  Ivssex  county  name 
of  Russell,  a  curate  whose  difikndty  of  hearing  made 
conversation  (piile  distinct  and  impressive,  and  with  a 
most  excellent  kiiowlefl;^e  of  IvJiglish  litciatnre  and 
an  entire  appreciation  of  the  I'nited  States  and  great 
anxiety  to  understand  the  exact  difference  between 
an  lCngli>h  university  and  an  American  institution  of 
education  which  has  assuJiied  this  high  classical  name 
and  which  the  noble  oM  President  Onincy  called  a 
".school."  He  had  as  a  companion  a  brother  curate 
of  pleasant  numners  and  good  ecclesiastical  quality  and 
information.  We  had  a  good  deal  of  pleasant  talk, 
and  I  read  of  the  bloody  horrors  of  the  Ciesars  in 
"  vSketclies  of  Old  Rome,"  and  took  a  peep  or  two 
into  "  My  Study  Wiiulows."  All  day  Sunday  the 
bright  sun  .shone  upon  us,  the  .sea  sparkled  .all  around 
us,  the  cloudless  sky  hung  over  us  with  the  rich  blue 
canopy  of  this  section  of  the  world,  and  we  went  on 


202  A  YHAR  IN  l'(  )FrrL'GAI.. 

with  our  cNxn  ten  knots  an  lionr  past  town  and  head- 
land on  the  Spanish  coast.     White  Cadiz  appeared  far 
oil  on  our  i)ort  l)ow,  lookint^  in  tlie  distance  as  if  an 
enormous  lainidry  had  been  hung  out  to  dry  at  the  foot 
of  the  liills  borderinijf  on  the  sea.     Tlie  cape  Trafalgar 
stood  out  with  its  .saiuly   cliffs  overhanguig  the  bay 
where  Nelson  won  his  ininiortality  and  established  the 
power  of  Great  Ihitain  on  the  high  seas.     On  tmr  star- 
board stretched  the  niomitaiuous  sliores  of  Morocco,  at 
whose  feet  nestled  Tangier,  the  most  Oriental  town  of 
this  day,  thronged  with  solemn  Moors  and  excrescent 
camels  and  veiled  women,  and  adorned  with  the  vSul- 
tau's  palace,  whose  domestic  in'.i>ortance  consists  in  a 
well-appointed    harem.     Before    I    had    (piite    reali/.ed 
that  Tangier  lay  so  near  us  I  was  pninted   ti>  a  stretch 
of  white   walls  oj)posite,   and  was  reminded  that  here 
lay    Tarif:i,   distinguished    above    all    other    towns    on 
earth   for   ha\ing   gi\en    name  to  that  S}  stem  of  cus- 
toms  revenue   which    nations    organize   in    accordance 
with    their    industrial     interests,    unless     liberalized, 
humanized,   and   Christianized   by    the   brotherly   love 
claimed    for  free    trade.      It   was   growing   dark  as  we 
entere'l  the  renowned  .--trails  Ixnuuled  on  either  hand 
b\    historic  ground,  and  su-elling  uneasily  with   wind 
and   tide  as   if   iui])alient   of  the   restraint  of  the   two 
continents    which    botuided    ami    cotifined    them.       It 
was  (piite  the   perfection  of  a  moonlight  night  when 
we  came  to  anchor    vuuler   the   shadow  of  the    lofty 
rock   of  Gibraltar  and  surnnuided   by  the  great  war 
ships   of  ICngland,   we  looked  out  upon  the  frowning 
bastions   which    overtopped    the   thousands   of    lights 
which  glittered  in  the  town  below.     We  were  at  Calpe. 
and    Abyla    lay    opjjosite, — the    pillars    of    Hercules, 


GIBRALTAR.  203 

through  which  all  the  coinnicrcc  of  the  ancients  passed 

and  repassed. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  describe  Gibraltar  ;  we  know 
it  all,  and  the  world  knows  it,  and  is  filled  with  admira- 
tion of  the  foresight  which  prompted  Great  Britain,  in 
her  days  of  deliberate,  calculating  statesmanship,  to 
seize  this  sentinel  of  the  seas  and  to  hold  it  against  the 
des])erate  sieges  of  rival  powers,  until  her  flag  floats  in 
triumph  over  its  defiant  and  conunanding  heights. 
The  gateway  to  the  connnerce  of  the  old  Mediterra- 
nean has  become  the  gateway  of  the  motlern  eastern 
sea,  and  the  promises  of  Gibraltar  are  fulfilled. 

When  we  reached  the  waters  which  wash  the  mole 
night  was  well  advanced,  and  the  captain,  curates,  the 
diplomatic  family,  and  a  mate  or  two  enlivened  the 
ship's  salon  with  the  best  they  knew,  and  reluctantly 
parted  and  retired.  This  morning  the  sun  shone 
brightly  still,  and  having  secured  a  g(jo(l  ICnglish 
breakfaNt  on  board,  we  ])laced  ourselves  in  the  hands 
of  a  boatman  whom  Consul  vSprague  had  .sent  out  to 
lake  us  and  our  baggage  ashore.  Our  trunks  were 
lujisted  over  the  side  into  a  weather-beaten  open  boat 
maimed  by  two  ancient  mariners,  who  rowed  us  over  a 
most  billowy  and  uneasy  sea  which  seemed  determined 
to  keep  U]>  its  ancient  stormy  reputation,  and  which 
roused  us  into  imperative"  denuuuls  that  we  be  put 
ashore  as  soon  as  jiossible.  And  so  we  laiuled  at  the 
steps  of  the  fort  and  were  civilly  met  by  a  good-Uniking 
ICnglish  ofllcer,  who.  having  been  assured  that  we  liad 
neither  "  spirits  nor  fire-arms  "  in  out  trunks,  hat-boxes, 
and  valises,  and  that  I  was  marching  on  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  American  flag  as  a  representative  of 
"the    greatest     government    on     earth,"     respectfully 


204  A  YHAR  IN  I'ORTLTiAL. 

touched  his  hat  and  bade  us  proceed.  This  we  did, 
and  here  we  are  in  a  comfortable  liolel  called  the  Calpe 
— ancient  name — wailing  for  a  little  excursion  with 
Consul  Sprai^ue  this  afternoon. 

Consul  Sprague — who  has  not  known  of  him  and  his 
official  merit  and  exact  fulfilment  of  the  perfection  of 
civil  ser\-ice  as  understood  by  the  reformers?  His 
father  left  Boston  in  1X32  a  representative  of  one  of  the 
mo.st  resi)ectal)le  and  i)atriolic  families  of  his  day  in 
that  town,  and,  armed  with  a  consular  commission 
from  Andrew  Jackson,  took  tip  his  al)ode  in  this 
.station.  He  saw  the  administration  of  the  old  hero 
pass  away,  saw  \'an  liuren  and  the  triumj)hant  De- 
mocracy ride  and  fall,  saw  Harrison  and  Tyler  ride 
into  ])ower  on  hard-cider  barrels  and  loj^  cabins  adorned 
with  coon-skitis,  saw  Tresident  I'olk  in  the  White 
House  and  Geor<;e  Bancroft  in  the  Navy  I)ej)artment, 
and  Te.Kas  annexed,  and  passed  away  to  leave  his  .son, 
the  present  excellent  Consul  in  power  here,  with  a  com- 
mission froni  the  Presidential  hero  of  "  fifty-four  forty 
or  fii^ht."  An<l  here  he  has  been  ever  since  enjoying 
from  youth  to  age  the  confidence  of  the  ct)untry  and 
the  respect  of  all  who  ha\-e  known  him.  And  what  a 
record  has  his  country  made  meanwhile  !  The  severe 
administration  of  Polk,  the  enignui  of  Taylor  and  Fill- 
more, the  pelting  storms  of  Pieice,  the  solemn  weakness 
of  Buchanan,  the  holy  inspiration  of  Lincoln,  the  strange 
vagaries  of  Andrew  Johnson,  the  sturdy  power  of  Grant, 
the  good  intentions  of  Hayes,  the  tragedy  of  Garfield, 
the  gayety  of  Artluu',  the  inscrutability  of  Cleveland, 
and  the  honest  ])nri)ose  of  Harrison,  have  all  come  be- 
fore his  vision.  What  statesmen — Webster  and  Clay 
and  Callioun — 'have  risen  into  radiant  i>ower  and  gone 


GIBRALTAR.  20$ 

down  in  bitter  disappointment !  What  American  heroes 
have  achieved  their  great  triumphs — Grant  and  Sher- 
man and  Sheridan  and  Thomas  !  What  deluded  war- 
riors and  statesmen  have  been  ruined  !  And  Consul 
Sprague  is  still  here,  a  kindly  and  attractive  man  with 
whom  I  now  propose  to  take  a  view  of  Gibraltar. 

We  have  taken  a  walk  through  the  gardens  of  the 
Alameda  and  along  the  narrow  streets  where  so  many 
nationalities  mingle.  British  troops  and  British  tars 
jostle  sailors  from  Malta,  Moors  in  burnous  and  turban, 
from  Africa  "o'er  the  way,"  black-bearded  Jews,  Ca- 
])uchin  monks,  rosy  linglish  girls  in  trim  tailor  gowns, 
Spanish  women  with  mantilla  and  fan,  Turks  with 
baggy  tnnisers,  and  American  tourists — all  are  met  in 
a  single  s([uare.  ICvery  now  and  then  people  make 
way  fur  a  smart  company  of  red-coats  marching  to  fife 
and  drum — the  most  piercing,  insjMriting,  and  splendid 
fifmg  and  drumming  I  have  ever  heard.  At  sunset 
and  again  at  nine  o'clock  as  the  patrol  i)assed  we  threw 
open  windows  and  listened  utilil  the  last  note  died 
away  with  a  faint  echo  from  the  craggy  heights. 

The  eastern  side  of  the  rock  which  forms  the  natural 
fortress  is  very  striking — towering  i.4,V'  feet  into  the 
.sky.  while  at  the  base  the  d.uigerous  reef  against 
which  a  strong  surf  beats  makes  it  imj^regnable.  On 
the  western  side  lies  the  town,  and  here  it  is  defended 
by  ;i  tremendous  ma.ss  of  masonry  two  miles  long — the 
line  wall,  with  projecting  bastiofrs  and  guns  turned 
right  and  left  to  sweep  it.  Two  gre.it  hundred-ton 
guns  are  the  ])ride  of  the  garrison.  They  throw  a  ball 
weigliing  two  thousand  ])oun(ls  over  eight  miles.  The 
most  interesting  feature  of  the  fortress  is  the  Rock 
Galleries.      A   hundred    years    ago    they    were   begun, 


206  A  Yr:AR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

and  i^auy:^  of  liaplcss  convicts  blasted  ont  the  tnimcls 
through  wliich  you  may  take  a  two-mile  walk,  mount- 
ing slowly  through  the  broad  passage  cut  into  the  solid 
rock.  It  is  well  lighted  and  protected,  for  at  every 
dozen  yards  a  port-hole  opens  upon  the  bay,  and  at 
each  heavy  guns  arc  mounted  on  carriages.  Whether 
they  would  be  effective  in  a  siege  has  l)een  questiond  ; 
indeed,  one  of  lurr  I5ritish  Majesty's  ofl'icers  told  me 
he  feared  they  would  be  quite  useless.  IIowcNer  that 
may  be,  Gibraltar  has  not  yet  surrendered,  and  is  un- 
equalled for  resist.'uice  to  mo-t  jK-rsislent  attacks,  for 
beauty  and  grandeur, 

March  St/i. — We  are  fist  a])proaching  Naples  this 
evening  in  a  bright  moonlight  on  :i  smooth  sea.  The 
Citrjro  is  a  gcKxl,  well-ordered  steamshi]),  a)id  our  voy- 
age has  been  most  delightful.  We  left  the  unity  of 
Gibraltar — all  military,  fortifications,  regiments,  bauds 
of  music,  galleries,  inaccessible  forts  on  lofty  piinuicles. 
And  this  is  all  there  is  of  Gibraltar,  besides  the  Consul. 

Our  co/upac^-nons  dc  voya;^e  have  been  most  agreeable, 
some  of  them  atnusing.  I  talked  long  witli  a  vScotch 
Presbyterian  minister  from  Ivlinburgli  bound  for  Damas- 
cus, one  of  those  sensible,  devout,  wise,  high-principled 
men  who  enable  you  to  realize  the  goodness  of  which 
human  nature  is  capable.  His  account  of  his  boys  and 
his  parochial  affairs,  and  his  struggles  for  a  college 
education,  and  his  interest  in  all  good  things  in 
America,  in  war  and  in  peace,  rejoiced  my  heart  and 
reminded  me  of  the  siiiiple,  devoted,  and  honest  ways 
I  was  accustomed  to  in  \\\\  yiulli.  His  \'iew  of  affiirs 
in  Scotland  hardly  confirmed  the  (i])ir.ion  expressed  to 
nie  ])y  Mr.  (»ladstone,  that  Scotl.ind  is  entirely  satisfied 


NAPLFiS.  207 

and  has  no  cause  for  complaint.  I  met  also  the  Hon. 
Mitchell  IIenr>-,  formerly  member  of  Parliament  from 
West  Ireland,  a  large  landholder  in  that  troubled 
country,  \vho  informed  me  that  he  had  a  daughter  mar- 
ried in  the  town  of  Ware,  Massachusetts — and  fdled  my 
mind  with  pleasant  memories  and  associations. 

We  put  into  Algiers  to  hind  Mr.  Henry,  who  has  a 
winter  residence   there,  as  have  niany  other  ICnglish- 
men,  and  we  made  a  slight  night  exploration  of  .the    , 
town.     Those  of  us  who  remained  on  board  saw  before 
us  a  high  pile  of  buildings  moiniting  up  the  sides  of 
the  great  hill  on  which  the  town  was  built,  while  the 
water  was  covered  with  little  boats  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  the  ]iassengers.     Mrs.   Loring  and  her  Scotch 
friends  went  ashore,  and  on  their  return  gave  most  inter- 
esting accounts  of  the  veiled  W(jmen  they  had  seen  on 
the  streets,  and  the  cafrsi  where  .solcnni  Moors  were  smok- 
ing tlR-ir  pipes,  and  tliev  exhibited  with  a  triumphant 
air  specimens  of  br.i^swork  they  had  purchased  of  the 
:iatives.     The  air  of  Algiers  is  mild  and  salubrious, 
and  the  inhabitants  around  the  Iviiglish  Channel  and 
the  Orkneys  find  there  a  most  delightful  winter  resort. 
I  have  read  to-day,  once  more,  Hawthorne's  Tran.s- 
formation,   "The  Marble  Faun,"  as  it  first  appeared  ; 
and  I  have  been  more  than  ever  impressed  with  his 
wonderful   power  of  expression,   his  keen  analysis  of 
motives   and    impulses,    and    his   deep   understandinjj 
of  what  was  going  on  about  him.     I  am  not  suqiri.sed 
that  the  philoso])hical  thinkers  did  not  quite  compre- 
hend him,  and  that  the  artists  w«.ndered  at  him  and 
tliat  novelists  criticised  him. 

We   sailed    into    the    bay    of   Naples  this    morning 
about  six  o'clock.     As  we  approached,    Vesuviu's  ap- 


20S  A  YliAR  IN  ITiRTUGAL. 

pcnrL-d  on  our  \\v;itli(.r  l>o\v.  Uikin^j;^  an  early  morning 
sniokf,  with  licr  noiUicrly  sl')]>c-  fn.ni  Uk.-  lop  almost  lo 
tlichaNC- rovcixd  willi  sikav,  a  li^lit  fall  of  wliicli  had 
occurred  in  tlie  ni^lit.  A  snow-covcrcd  c-liimucy  is  not 
imcommoii  in  the  winter  niorJiin;;s  in  New  ICn^Iand  ; 
Init  I  nnist  CMnfcs^  tlic  transfer  of  this  ])ictiires(|tic 
oljett  frum  the  nionnlains  o(  New  Ilainpsliire  to  ti)e 
snnny  clinialf  of  Iialy  was  a  little  slaitlin;;  antl  dis- 
''•""'•'r,""N-  Slill  in  the  morninj<  sun  the  seem-  was 
heautiftd.  We  steamed  iij)  to  the  mole,  and  when  we 
had  droppe<l  anchor  we  found  ourselves  lyinj;  between 
the  Cliiiano  aiirl  the  Alhnilir^  of  the  ,S<jUadron  of  Jvvolu- 
tion,  w!ii<h  had  arrived  only  yesterday  from  her  cruise 
in  the  Medit-rratiean.  I  madj  haste  to  ])ay  my  respects 
to  Admiral  Walker,  and  was  scut  aslir,re  by  him,  with 
my  family  a!id  lu--a.i;e,  in  the  shi])'s  bar^e.  Our 
entry  into  Naples  was  (piite  triumi)hant.  The  United 
Stales  Consul  met  us  on  tlie  ])ier  ;  the  customdiouse 
otficers  passed  my  ba-ga<;e  witliont  examination,  and 
we  were  <lrive!i  lo  the  Grand  Ib.tel  as  a  startin--p(.)int 
for  a  short  survey  of  the  objects  of  interest  in  Naples. 
The  air  is  soft,  iiolwith-ianding  the  snowy  mantle 
whieh  envelr;ps  \'esuvins,  and  the  sun  is  brii^ht  and 
warm,  and  all  the  hills  are  bathed  in  purple  h'Kht. 

We  have  had  a  mo«.t  delij^htful  d.iy  at  p.,mi)eii, 
directed  by  a  >Mn'<!e  who  has  made  a  carehd  study  ui 
the  lat'-st  exeavati«;ns.  The  "Silent  City  "  has  }',iown 
mti'li  since  we  last  saw  it.  .uid  many  pnblie  buildin;.;s 
and  honses  of  ^reat  beauty  have  been  (;pene<l. 

In  the  h.jn.M;  ^,{  Salhisl  we  passed  into  the  tricli- 
nium, or  smnnur  dinin;^--room,  which  was  channin-ly 
decorated.  The  sto:ie  s.at^,  tl;e  all.ir  for  lilKition;,  the 
marble  basin  int.,  which  the  roiinlain  fJI,  and  the  boxes 


POMPEII.  209 

in  which  nowcrs  formerly  j;rc\v  arc  still  there.  The 
dininj^-room  opened  into  rui  arbor,  and  the  outer  wall 
was  painted  with  fountain  jets,  trees,  and  hirds.  \Vc 
ga/.ed  upon  the  delicate  colors  of  the  frescos  and  the 
lieauty  of  the  tnarl)le  courts,  and  found  it  hard  to 
realize  that  all  life  had  vanished  from  thetn  eij^ditecil 
hnndied  years  ;iy',o. 

At  the  beaiiliful  and  inlerestinj;  house  of  the  h'aun, 
the  ^'.arden  is  surrounded  by  a  portico  with  fifly-six 
Doric  columns.  At  the  house  «)f  Dionied,  the  ^anlcn 
has  a  portico,  and  elose  to  the  gate  were  found  two 
skeletons  believed  to  ])e  those  of  the  master  and  slave, 
who  eudeavore<l  to  tsvape  while  the  other  members  of 
the  family  were  liidden  in  the  eellar. 

The  amphitheatre  is  a  wonderful  excavation,  and 
from  the  arena  where  Glaucus  made  his  unite  appeal 
to  the  excited  and  blood-thirsty  spectators,  we  looked 
invohnitarily  towards  the  mountain  for  the  fatal  cloud 
whieh  had  wrapped  in  darkness  the  d(X)med  city  it  was 
to  destroy. 

We  passed  some  pleasant  hours  in  the  Naples 
museum,  rejoicing  again  in  the  grandeur  of  the 
Farnese  Bull,  and  the  Hercules,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
lovely  Flora,  and  the  gallery  of  the  Hronzes.  We 
drove  through  the  busy  streets  and  along  the  fine  new 
Chia/.a,  with  many  glances  across  the  blue  bay  to 
Ca])ri,  "  the  loveliest  pearl  in  Nai)les'  erown." 

Maiih  ii)lh. — Two  da\s  only  at  Xa])les  and  I'omixii 
with  their  mu.M.'ums,  iin<l  e\(a\'ati<;ns  and  churches 
and  lioman  relics  !  An  old  friend,  who  has  become 
familiar  with  every  street,  .and  lane,  and  building  in 
rom})eii,  peopled  the  town  f  >r  us,  and  we  traded  iti 
the  m.irket-place,  and   luxuriate<l    in    the   baths,   and 


iut 


A  YI:AR  in  I'ftlt'TliriAl.. 


ripl^lau'k-*!  at.  IIk-  llicatrfs,  ati'i  lu-M  h\-^]\  c()iivcrsc  in 
llie  Ikjusc,  and  iinaj^iin.d  otirsclvcs  citi/.c!is,  wilh  all  its 
ancient  litfrattuv  and  xoluptuousncss,  atid  all  Ihc 
appliances  of  a  luxurious  pccipic, 

\\\'  came  lo  Rome  on  llie  i^Mli  for  a  flying;  visit— a 
pt)  roniianri-  wliifli  ,s'(  nud  !  i'licidons  in  view  of  what 
Uome  was  and  is  and  is  likely  to  he,  'i'lu-  journey 
occiipiid  ah<nit  five  Imnrs  tliron;;li  the  wide  valit-y 
whi'li  lM-;;insin  \'iew  of  \'t'su\ins  and  lenniiiatcs  in  the 
(.'aiiii>a).;na,  'I'lie  snow  eapj)ed  mountains  stood  (»n 
eitli<r  hand  in  ino' I  |ii'lin<  (pie  aiiay.  and  foinird  a 
htrikiuK  <'<intia'il  t<»  IIh'  liii;.',lit  }',it<ii  s'lidno'  ot  the 
plains  over  whifh  wi-  vvere  passinj.',.  Wlu-n  I  saw 
Rome  for  the  fn-st  tim<  ,  many  years  aj.',o,  I  appr«)ac"hed 
it  over  the  loni;  and  weary  highway  from  Civila  Vec- 
chia  where  every  object,  even  the  carria-^e  in  which  T 
Iravelh.d.  and  the  qn'nil<n  l>y  the  wayside,  and  the 
horses  and  the  ancient  dri\er.  all  reminded  me  that  I 
was  in  tlie  ret^don  of  antifpiil\-  ;  and  as  I  approached 
the  mistress  «if  the  wurld  her  \enerahle  appearance  was 
deeply  impressed  ni)on  me  hy  her  solemn  walls,  her 
time-worn  Imildin^s,  and  her  crown  which  ^at,  a  ;;re;it 
dome,  on  the  he.id  of  ,St.  j-eler's.  I-',\\r\thinj;  ri-- 
mindid  me  of  the  empcrois  and  the  repuMic,  and 
the  marehiuj.;  armies,  and  tin-  j.;reat  victorious  proces- 
sions of  cou'pK-rors,  and  the  weeping  captives  and 
papal  grandeur.  It  was  Rome  which  J  was  contem- 
plating^, and  Rome  alone.  I'.iit  now  I  c.ime  into  the 
city  witlnnit  lliat  suldime  view  of  vSt.  Peter's  and 
looking  in  vain  for  the  venerable  form  ofth.it  antifiuily 
which  constituted  its  grandeur.  I  was  whirled  into  a 
modern  railw.iy  station  cjf  im])OS!ng  proportions,  most 
sidjstautial  in   its  youth  and  usefulness,  .and  acconnno- 


ROMH.  211 

(Inlijij;  the  tnivcllin^  pithlii-  on  ^r^'ii'ifl  once  occupied 
l)y  llic  I*rcl')ri;in  r.uanls.  'iMic  a(lj;iccnl  buildinj^s  were 
larj^e  and  new,  ami  so  many  of  tlienv  stood  unfinislied 
that  I  fell  I  was  in  the  precincts  of  specuhitors  an<l  not 
in  the  (-(mtts  of  artists  and  eccUsiaslics.  'I'hc  Hotel 
Contitiriital  loonu(l  ntar  hy  and  npiiird  wide  it:uloors 
for  din'  reciplidii,  and  I  lo<ikcd  ahnnt  on  cvety  hand  to 
fnid  any  jiroof  that  I  w;is  not  in  New  N'ork,  or  Hosttoi, 
or  Chicaj-Mi,  or  Sakin  Ixlon-  the  Ivi-^lcrn  Railroad 
staliwn  w  IS  hiiriil  down.  I  was  uhli^cd  \n  <.'xpl'ite  a 
Utile  1m  Idle  I  n  .illy  di><rri\rird  thai  lh<.  re  was  atj 
am  icnt  Koine  f-.till  a  Koine  <?!'  hi  -toiy  and  ronianeo 
ami  poitiy  sn  en),;nlplied  in  ni'tdirn  (••niiiion  place  and 
ntilil)  that  it  seemed  to  he  almost  oMiterated  and 
destined  to  rein(»val  as  an  ohstaele  to  the  mareh  of 
improvement.  Rome  is  immensels  huilt  up,  and  in- 
creases in  poimlation  at  the  rate  of  a  thousand  a  month, 
and  is  not  the  charming  and  imjiressive  and  fascinating; 
l)lace  <jf  visions  and  dreams  and  heaiity  that  it  was 
when  it  had  fifty  thousand  people  and  not  a  new  house 
in  it.  (Jf  Course  I  had  come  to  take  a  peep  at  old 
Koine,  and  set  ahout  e.xplorinj;  at  once.  I  went  forth 
to  find  Story  as  a  fit  introduction  to  the  art  of  this 
^reat  city  <»f  .irtists.  When  I  last  saw  St(»r\  he  was  in 
Washin;.'.t<»n  a  -^uvsi  who  eiitrrtained  .ill  hi>  inter- 
tainers.  Ik-  was  to  me  a  classmate  and  a  ft llow-sonj^s- 
ler,  and  a  most  vital  Ki'<-'^U  ^^ho  rivalled  Lowell  in 
activity,  mental  and  i)h\sical,  and  was  fond  of  me — 
why  I  could  never  tell.  I  hardly  expected  to  find  the 
"friend  of  my  youth,'"  hut  I  was  not  (|uite  i)repared  to 
meet  a  rather  venerable  j^entlenian  in  artist's  blouse 
and  cap.  with  :i  snowy  head  as  white  as  the  peaks  I 
hud  .seen  on  my  journey  hither.     Nor  was  he  prepared 


212 


A  YHAK  IN  rCtF^TUGAL 


to  niccl  iiitj  ii!  any  ^iiisc.  f(»r  he  supposed  T  was  playing 
(lijjlonial    in    Lisbon,    ncj^otialini;    l)ela;^oa    ]'>ay,    and 
jionderiui;  upon    llie    wiatli    of   llic    rortu^uese    who 
think   Ihey  have  Ix.'en  despoiled  In-  ICnj^land  of  their 
African  ]))ssessiojis.     C)ur  nieetini;  was  most  youthful  ; 
it  \\as    that   of   two    eollej^e  hoys    and    not    tliat  of  a 
venerable  artist  anil  an  ancient  diplomatist.     We  em  ■ 
braeed,  he  kissed  me  audibly,  I    turned  my  eyes  most 
affectionatelN-    on    him.    we    danced,    we    laughed,    we 
admired  eadi   oilier,  and    ;d!   my   lime   here   has  been 
made    happy   b\-  himself   and    hi>    famil\'.      We    ha\'e 
dined   with   him  :    Mrs.  Slor\'  has  been  most  attenti\-e 
and  deli;.;ht!;dly  reminiscent  ;     the  artist   son,    Waldo, 
has  im]>ressed  me  by  his  j^euins,  as  his  wife  has  by  her 
beauty  ;    and   ICdith,  now  Mrs.  Peno/./i,  has  reminded 
me  of  all  the  kindliness  of  a  well-descended  American 
woman,     'i'he  amount  of  vStor\'s  art  is  wonderful.     His 
bu>ts  of  distin;.;uished  Americans  arc  admirable  ;   his 
statues  are   M\  of  character  ;    his  conceptions  full  of 
beaul\-.      His  studio  rooms  are  piled  with  works  of  art 
in  ^rou]»s     more  th.an  fifty  statues  of  historic  charac- 
ters, and  I   know  not  how  many  ideal  fi^iures,  nor  does 
he  know.      As  \on  y^o  from  looni  to  room  \ou  are  sur- 
rounded by  ni'.'st  im])osin;^  fi.rms  (tf  beauty  and  i^race. 
I  cannot  describe  them,  but  one  cm   conceive  of  them, 
and  as  t.he\'  are  broir^ht  b<.-fore   the   mind  it   is  easy  to 
imagine  a  Cleo])alra  with  a  face  that  startles  y^u  as  you 
contemplate  its  heated  e\es  and   its  ardent  mouth,  and 
you    may   picture  to  yourself  an  A])hrodite,   his  last 
work,  still  in  the  clay,  ,so  full  of  beauty  that  >'oti  fory:ct 
all    lie    has    done    l)efore    for    a  moment,    and    all    the 
elaborations  of  ])hysical  ^race  and  spiritual  charm  that 
other   artists   have   created.      Kor   nearlv    fortv    vcars 


ROMU.  213 

Stop,'  has  bcL-n  etigagcd  in  composing  his  record  as  an 
artist,  and  he  can  now  look  Ijack  over  a  life  of  devotion 
to  beautiful  creation,  without  a  flaw,  a  uniform  and 
conijilete  chapter  which  is  full  of  delight.  His  life  has 
been  most  sweet,  his  reC(jrd  is  most  honorable.  We 
have  talked  busily,— about  his  fellow-artists,— about 
Drowning,  whom  he  ha<l  known  and  loved,  and  whose 
l.'ist  words  to  him  but  a  few  months  ago,  as  they  parted, 
were:  "An  unbroken  friendship  of  fifty  years"; 
about  Lowell,  wh<«m  we  both  admire;  about  I/uidor, 
who  is  to  me  a  dull  literateur  and  to  him  an  irritable, 
and,  as  Mrs.  vSlory  says,  an  admind)le  old  man;  and 
about  the  former  da\s. 

A  reoei)tion   given   by   I.ady   Dufferin  at  the  Hritish 
Legation  gave  me  an  opportu.nity  to  meet  many  Ameri- 
cans, among    whom    I    noticed    the    familiar   faces   of 
Governor  Porter,   the  rnik-d  States   Minister,  and  his 
daughter;    Mr.  Winthrop  Chaider  ;    Mr.  Sargent,  the 
American  naval  affudir,  accompanied  by  his  wite  ;   Mr, 
Osgood   iMebl.  the  sight  of  wh<>m  carried  me    back  to 
the  days  of  his  grandfather,    the   Revolutionary  com- 
mander, the  first  rostmaster-Oeneral  of  the  Republic, 
the  friend  of  Wasliington,  and  ti>  my  own  maternal  an- 
cestors in  the  historic  old  town  of  Andfjver.     Conspic- 
uous  among    the    distinguished    persons    present  was 
Prince  Napoleon,  the  renowned  Plon-plon  about  whom 
there  is  such  a  widediiTerence  of  opinion.    He  is  a  stout, 
substantial   person,   whose  youthfid  beauty  and  resem- 
blance to    the    I'irst    Consul    still    remain,    sotnewhat 
matured  and  modified  by  time.      He  is  a  citizen  now, 
with  not  much  of  a  future,  but   with   a  j^ast  which  is 
remarkable  for  striking  incidents  and  gloomy  with  lost 
opiX-)rtunities.     He  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  brightest 


2M  A  VI:AK  in  POKTl'GAL. 

of  the  family  of  Xapoloon,  atul  wliile  he  has  ability  to 
distinguish  himself  as  a  ruk-r,  has  never  enjoyed  the 
possession  of  ix)\ver,  and  has  allowed  his  life  to  be  con- 
trolled by  the  impulses  whose  influence  his  associations 
and  his  leisure  have  developed  into  mere  eccentricities. 
He  has  been  branded  as  a  coward,  but  he  has  shown 
great  independence  of  character,  and  while  he  has  been 
stn^igly  inclined  to  turn  a  contem])tvi(Mis  look  upon  ihe 
imperial  honors  which  have  slipjK'd  through  the  grasp 
of  his  family,  he  has  manifested  an  audacious  inclina- 
tion to  advoc^ite  republican  doctrines  whenever  he  could 
fnul  an  excuse  for  his  natural  lo\-e  of  democratic  insti- 
tutions. Ilis  religious  views  coincide  largely  with  his 
ix/iitical,  and  while  he  has  been  surrounded  by  extreme 
Roman  Catl'olicism,  and  has  seen  his  wife  Clothilde 
liold  herself  aloof  from  the  bedside  of  her  dying  father, 
Victor  Ivmamiel,  on  account  of  his  hostility  to  the 
temporal  ]'OWer  of  the  Pope,  his  mind  has  rebelled 
against  the  cerennjuials  of  the  Church,  and  he  has 
extended  to  the  ecclesiastical  ofhcials  the  cordial  hospi- 
tality (^f  a  gentleman. 

Prince  Napoleon  has  li\-ed  under  the  influences  of 
reflnement  and  ctdture  and  that  imperialism  of  which 
he  has  had  no  share,  in  an  assf)ciation  where  all  his 
wit  an<l  accomplishments  are  thoroughly  appreciated, 
but  where  his  common-sense  could  nut  display  itself. 
He  has  been  from  the  beginning  the  implacable  enemy 
of  the  Jvmpress  luigeuie,  whose  lineage  he  unreasonably 
and  unjustly  disputed,  and  of  whose  character  lie  has 
great  dislike.  His  desire  fur  France  and  for  his  cousin 
Louis  Xa]>oleon  was  that  an  alliance  sh.ould  be  formed 
with  some  one  of  the  ruling  and  royal  families  of 
IXurope.       The  ]'*m[)eror,  howe\'er,  was  so   enamored 


ROMl:.  215 

of  the  beauty  of  the  da/.zlitig  Spanish  damsel  without 
acknowledged  nationality  or  family  that  he  allowed  his 
life  to  be  eontrolled  by  her.  It  was  she  who  resisted 
every  attempt  of  the  ICmperor  to  manifest  his  sympathy 
with  proi^ress.  eillK-r  in  ICnrope  or  Ameriea.  Hy  her 
adviee,  we  are  told,  he  fiikd  to  withdraw  the  hVeneh 
troops  from  Rome,  and  it  was  her  passionate  appeals 
which  tlie  Ivmperor  was  obliged  to  resist  when  he 
refused  to  acknowledge  the  Sontliern  Confederacy. 
And  the  Franco-German  war,  which  dissevered  iMance 
and  dethroned  the  Ivmperor,  has  passed  into  history, 
justly  or  not,  as  the  War  of  the  Ivmpress.  Prince 
Napoleon  would  not  view  a  career  like  this,  as  he 
understood  it,  with  patience  or  complacency  ;  and  on 
cverv  occasion,  public  and  private,  he  has  manifested 
his  hostility  to  the  banpress,  whether  in  power  or  over- 
whehned  by  calamity. 

The  relations  existing  between  the  Prince  and  his 
wife  have  not  been  productive  of  happiness  or  peace. 
In  the  l)eauty  and  character  of  his  daughter  he  takes 
great  delight.  And  so  this  man,  who  was  born  to  rule, 
and  as  a  literateur,  or  a  scientist,  or  a  diplomatist,  or  a 
man  of  affairs,  might  have  achieved  an  honorable  ca- 
reer, will  be  classed  among  the  social  wits  and  the  public 
failures.  His  home  at  Prangins  is  fnnous  for  its  luxury 
and  taste,  occupying  one  of  the  most  pictuies<iue 
.spots  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Leman,  and  adorned  with 
great  beauty  of  art  and  architecture.  Prince  Napoleon 
will  be  considered  as  one  of  the  unemployed  forces  of 
I'Airo-)e  ;  his  life  is  roughly  handled,  as  the  life  of  an 
idler  will  al\\a\s  be. 

Meanwhile  we  have  strolled  from  one  gallery  to  an- 
other—from vSt.    Peter's    to    the  ancient  vS.    Marie  del 


216  A  YEyXR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

Popolo.  from  tlic  I'or^licsc-  Villa  to  tlK-  Painphili  Doria, 
from  Ihc  Forum  to  the  threat  triumphal  arches  of  Cou- 
stnntiuc  and  Titus,  from  the  palace  of  the  Cajsars  to 
tile  liDUse  of  Domitian,  from  the  Capitol  to  the  Mu- 
seum, from  gate  to  Corsa, — all  of  which  is  so  well 
described  in  i^uide-hooks  and  in  juvenile  journals. 
Ilildreth  has  been  (piite  enthusiastic  in  his  researches, 
directed  by  the  uniiriiii;  kindness  of  Mr.  Wood  of  the 
.\nierican  Con.Nulate  ;  and  encourat;ed  by  the  courtesy 
of  (',o\einor  I'.ourn.  the  IT.  S.  Consul-Cicneral. 

One  ihin;^  in  Rome,  ho  vever,  i;;uide-books  have  not 
descril)ed,  nor  have  the  hosts  of  tra\ellers  discoxxred, 
and  that  is  the  new  attraction  Ilawlliorne  has  i;iven 
this  ancient  city.  His  spirit  follows  you  everywhere. 
His  stamj)  is  left  on  every  i;reat  work  of  art,  his  fieiy 
criticism  on  every  unworthy  creation  (jf  the  artists. 
Miriam  and  her  awful  mo<lel  and  her  terrible  secret 
haunt  you.  Hilda's  tower  stands  as  it  was  designed 
to  stand,  a  guru'(lirui  of  the  city  made  divine  by  her 
.sweet  >pirit.  I  !~tood  and  conie:ni)laled  it  with  nio->t 
intense  and  wrapt  adoration — for  there  is  her  wind<iw, 
there  the  lamp  which  has  shone  out  for  six  Jiumlred 
years,  there  the  image  of  the  virgin  looking  o\er  the 
town,  and  there  the  creative  spirit  of  Hawthorne,  who 
wo\'e  this  ancient  structure  into  his  inspired  story,  and 
selected  it  as  the  only  spot  in  Rome  suited  as  an  abode 
ior  the  i»uie  and  >])iritual  Hilda.  The  terrace  at  the 
I'incian  Hill,  from  which  Hilda  and  Kenyon  lc)oked 
down  into  the  great  I'ia/.z.i  del  I'opolo  and  saw  Miriam 
kneeling  at  the  fonnt;iin  fir,  far  l^elow,  still  iiuites  you 
to  stand  and  look  and  imagine  Hawthorne  au'l  his 
creation  by  your  side.  The  smooth,  and  green,  and 
grassy  turf  of  the  amphitheatre   in   which   Donatcllo 


ROME.  2t7 

danced  and  set  all  his  companions,  the  grave  and  gay 
alike,  into  the  wildest  antics,  lies  deserted  and  beautiful 
before  you  as  you  pass  along  the  avenue  which  leads  to 
the  ]k)rgli(jse  \'illa  with  its  great  collection  of  art. 
By  what  power  Hawthorne  was  led  to  clothe  all  these 
spots  witli  the  creatures  of  his  genius,  whether  they 
brought  their  appropriate  imagery  to  his  mind,  or 
whether  he  found  the  proper  home  for  the  cliaracters 
he  was  delineating,  uo  man  can  tell  now.  But  nowhere 
else  could  the  abode  of  Miriam  and  Hilda  and  Doua- 
tello  be  found,  and  no  reality  coidd  fdl  the  plaees  they 
fd!  in  the  "  Marble  I-'aun  " — not  e\-en  the  living  beings 
and  statues  of  Rome.  1  have  met  Conway  here,  who  is 
writing  a  Life  of  Hawthorne,  asid  we  have  wandered 
about  together,  wondering  how  the  great  genius  wrought 
himself  into  the  life  and  art  of  the  great  city. 

We  leave  for  Naples  to-morrow  morning  to  take 
steamer  for  Oibraltar.  I  turn  my  face  westward  with 
delight :  for  that  way  Salem  lies. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
GIBI^Al.TAR.- TANGIER. 

AfarcJi  2oth. — We  arc  aj;nin  in  (/ibrnltar.  After 
dinini;  with  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Wintlirop  Cliankr,  where 
\vc  n)et  anio])^  oilier  i;iicsls  Minister  Porter  and  liis 
daughter,  Miss  Broaihvood,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Terr>-,  and 
Mr.  Dougherty,  we  jirej^arod  for  our  departure  from 
Rome,  We  took  an  earJN  train  for  Naples  to  meet  the 
steamer  O/nj'  r,  «>n  wliich  we  w<.Te  to  sail  for  ( libr.'ilt.'ir. 
We  reach'.'<l  Xa])les  ah'iut  two  o'chick,  dined  siun|itn- 
ou.sly,  strolled  .'ihout  the  town,  and  at  smiM-t  went  on 
ho.ard.  This  wa'-  firewell  to  Itrdy,  I  might  describe 
\vliat  I  saw  at  Naples,  I'omj)cii,  and  Rome,  hut  I 
catniot  de.seribe  the  ple.isure  I  had  in  the  attentive 
friends  who  m.ide  my  journey  most  agreeable. 

This  .ship  on  which  we  embarked  from  N;i])les  is  a 
.steady  Knglish  steamer  of  near!}"  7,(,oo  Ions  burthen 
and  6,fx>)  horse-]H)Wer,  running  l»elween  London  and 
Melbourne.  Her  vcjyage  she  makes  jjretty  regularly  in 
six  weeks  each  way.  Her  i)assengers,  wlio  weie  almost 
entirely  ICnglish  of  the  Australian  Colony,  were  return- 
ing home  after  a  long  absence,  with  their  minds  full  of 
anticipatif)ns  and  reminivcences.  Our  \'oyage,  there- 
fore, was  one  of  some  interest,  rnxl  I  managed  before 
it  was  fini'-h(  '1  to  become  acfjuaintcd  with  a  steady, 
sensible  J'aiglish    henl'inan   who  had  passed  his  life  iu 


GIBKALTAR.  219 

Attstralia  feeding  his  flocks  like  Ihc  "  frup;nl  swain" 
ill  Douglas,  lo  the  luiniher  of  20^,000,  and  with  him  I 
discussed  the  subject  of  wool,  and  had  the  pleasure  of 
informing  him  that  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  his 
friend  President  Cleveland,  in  whose  utterances  he  had 
great  f;iith.  Australian  wool  would  not  be  admitted  free 
into  the  I'nited  vStates.      I  also  discu>sed  Ivnglish  poli- 
tics with  a  bright  }-oung  man  who  had  travelled  through 
our  country  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  \isitiiig 
New  York,   Philadelphia,   Washington,  Cliicago,  and 
San    I'Vancisco,  and   was  just  completing  his  journey 
round  the  world  a  la  Nelly  V>\y.     He  discussed  Mr. 
Gladstone  very  shrewdly,  knew  Mr.   Chamberlain,  in 
whose  town  he  lived,  believed  in  the  Ivnglish-spcaking 
])e()ple.  whether  John  Bulls  or  P.rother  Jonatlums,  and 
on  the  whole-  wa^  <|nite  bright   and  entiTlaining.      Ihlt 
the  voyage  itself  w.is  pK  tly  b.id.      TIk'  st.iU-roor.is  I 
had  secured  were  ver\'  far  foiward  and  the  motion  of 
the  great  ship  was  felt  as  if  th(.re  had  been  an  earth- 
fjuake.     Soon  after  leaving  Naples  the  wind  piped  from 
the  southwest,   "the  sky  with  clouds  was  overcast," 
"the  rain  began  to  fall,"  and  the  bosom   of  the  sea 
became  most  violent.      As  night  wore  on   the  waves 
rose  in  their  wrath,  not  .sweeping  and  dignified  and  im- 
posing as  on  the  Atlantic,  but  "  sharp,  quick,  and  de- 
cisive," angry,  jetulent,  spasmodic,  dashing  themselves 
with  headlong  fury  against  the  sides  (»f  the  ship  and 
throwing  their  spray  in  great  showers  o\er  the  l)ows. 
They  seemed  at  times  to  be  stretching  their  reach  to 
the  i)ort-holes  for  iiKiuiry  into  the  misery   they    were 
creating  in   the  cabins,   or  to  touch   the   fiying   clouds 
which   were  res])onding  to  their   turbnleuce   from   the 
heavens.      Tlie  scene  was  sublime  and  exciting,  and  i 


2)n  A  VI. Al'  IN  I'mI' II'fiAl,. 

ctijoycd  the  cotfiisiuM  ami  riot,  wliilc  I  syiiiptilliizcfl 
with  l]i<)sc  iinli.-i]*]))'  voya^^crs  \vli(>  were  <»l)lij^C'<l  lo  ro 
Irciit  l»)  llicir  lii'liii^^  j)l:ices.  W'c  \vm\  l)ul  liUk-  repfjsc 
tmlil  Wf  naclicd  llie  I'.c  of  tlic-  laii'l  apjiroacliiip^;  the 
Straits  f;f  Cild-altar. 

Whtii  \vc  readied  Gibraltar  a  severer  trial  still 
awaited  us.  Tlie  \v;iters  of  the  harbor  were  very 
rough,  and  we  were  obliged  to  laud  at  the  <[uay  iti  little 
boats  which  c?aiiie  alongside,  and  in  the  iiio>t  cocinet- 
tish  manlier  bobbed  up  and  down  at  the  fo<A  of  the 
stairs  leading  fmiii  the  shij).  One  boat  t<iok  our  bag- 
g;!ge,  and  was  soon  ])!a\ing  hi'!e  and  seek  dii  theensts 
and  valleys  of  tlu!  restless  waters.  A  boat  was  tlieii 
bnnight  alongside  for  tis.  She  beh;i\'ed  worse  than 
her  pretkce-vor,  Down  the  steps  went  Mrs.  I/iiiugloget 
on  b')ai<l,  \\'!i'>  II  s!ie  reaeh(.d  the  lowe-^t  slc'p  tiie  boat 
settled  tin  li<i  below  her,  and  then  rose  impudently 
tin  f<.(.l  abo\e  her,  as  intu  h  as  lo  say,  "  if  one  thing 
does  not  sitisiy  ><'ii,  }ou  may  try  the  opp(>sil<.-," 
Wlun  she:  stret<-lKd  out  her  arms  for  aid  and  got  it, 
she  took  a  n>ing  leap  and  landed  in  safety.  Ilildreth 
folhnved  in  .similar  fasliion.  I  refused,  and  a  tugd)oat 
lumb'.red  up  with  great  ui)lieavals  and  gave  me  a  more, 
massive  but  not  a  better  <;]>portunity.  W'e  all  got 
ashore  at  Xw-X,  aiul  to-morrow  we  go  to  Tangier. 

W'e  left  Oibraltar  for  Tangier  on  the  morning  of 
Sunday,  the  2}th  of  March,  afl(.-r  a  most  kindly  farewell 
from  Mr.  vSprague,  o\er  a  "  smooth  deceitful  sea," 
uiuler  a  bright  sun.  with  Sj);iin  on  the  one  si'le  and  the 
mountains  of  .Morocco  on  the  otln.r.  The  trij)  was 
delightful.  W'e  sailed  into  the  beautiful  little  bay  of 
Tangier,  ftiugf-d  with  a  while  sandy  be.ieh,  with  ,i  dark 
ba<kj',round    of    ^-ttiile    moniitains,   about    noon,    and 


TANfilll',  'U\ 

were  inlro«lucc<l  fit  oikc  to  a  crowd  of  lurbatic«l,  flnn- 
iicl-<lra])f<l,  barf-leKK<-'li  swarthy,  Mack-cycd  Moors, 
who  made  the  slrcvts  tcsotiii'l  wilh  thtir  chiinor.  After 
a  hinc-hfoii  at  a  ^'ood  h«»tel  we  started  on  our  exploring; 
exi)editioii  with  a  ^iiide.  It  was  "  j^reat  market-day," 
as  every  Sunday  is.  We  strolled  tlipiu^h  narrow. 
crfMjked,  dirty,  hadly-paved  stn-ets,  jostleil  by  little 
ra^.i;ed  donkeys  and  j;reat  rai^t^ed  Moors,  beset  by  bey; 
i!,'u\^  cliildreii  and  inij)ortunate  crijjples,  and  after  a 
most  painful  and  disagreeable  walk  of  half  an  hour  wc 
reache<l  the  market-place.  It  was  a  wide,  uneven 
sloi)e,  covered  with  j;n»ups  of  peo)>le  en^i^aj^ed  in  feed- 
ing and  trade,  attendcfl  by  the  omnipresent  donkey  and 
a  few  disconsolate  camels.  I  saw  but  little  merchan- 
dise— lar^;c  bread  loaves,  some  jjanniers  of  oran^^es,  a 
sujtply  of  potatoes  an<l  carrots,  and  a  few  pieces  of 
•KcDialed  cotton  cloth,  of  which  I  bou};]it  one,  whose 
needlework  alone  must  have  occupied  a  mouth,  for  a 
dollar.  riie  «halteriti)^M'rowd  wasj;reat,  Hare-footed, 
bare-headed,  ra^^^ed-cloaked.  ba).:,;;\-breeched  boys 
were  en^a^ed  in  playful  fi^hi,  wretched  old  men  sat 
round  on  their  heels,  crooked  and  ha^^^^ard  old  women 
curled  up  under  the  walls,  and  the  j;round  was  diversi- 
fied with  dirt-hea])S  and  mudholes.  A  more  disi^usting 
picture  I  never  witnessed. 

On  our  way  back  to  the  hotel  we  visited  a  "grand 
ba/.;iar,"  full  of  rugs,  and  fliscarded  gut'.s,  and  trinkets, 
and  red  slippers,  and  brass  plates.  We  resisted  the 
tem])tation  of  all  this  dis])lay,  a!ul  went  on  to  ;i  Moorish 
house  where  the  strains  of  most  disi-ordant  music  in- 
formed us  that  a  uewls-married  co»:j)le  were  celebrating 
their  honeymoon,  I'li-isin^  Ihiough  a  blue  and  white 
court  and  up  a  precipitotts  (light  of  red  steps,  into  a 


222  A   YI;AK   in   i'<)Rril(}AL 

iinrrow  baUfjiiy,  \vc  fomi'l  five  imisiciaiis  seated  on  the 
floor  at  <<iie  eiul,  'I'lny  liid  iiiooiish  iiistnjineiits  re- 
seiiiljliii^  a  violin,  j^iiilar,  niaii'loliii,  and  castanets,  and 
all  lianj^e'!  away  with  a  j;reat  noise  and  little  harmony, 
sin^ini;  at  the  toj)  of  their  lun^s  at  the  same  time.  In 
frcMit  of  them  was  a  small  round  table  with  Moorish 
cups  and  saucers,  and  a  cofTee-urn  in  the  centre.  At 
ojie  side  sat  a  very  weIl-develoi)ed  girl.  i)erhaps  too 
well  de\eloj)ed,  dressed  in  white,  uith  a  pink  silk 
handkerchief  tied  over  her  head,  and  her  almontl  eyes 
sloe-black,  ga/ed  stolidly  out  from  her  fat  cheeks,  as 
some  of  the  Moors  came  forward  to  shake  hands  with  tis 
and  gi\e  us  chairs.  The  gui<le  whisjxred  to  us  that  this 
girl  was  the  bride;  that  after  the  marriage  the  couple 
lived  together  fifteen  da  \s,  and  if  dissatisfied  they  could 
separate  on  the  ])aymi.  nt  of  one  thousand  dollars  to  the 
girl's  family,  when  the  marriage  would  be  satisfactorily 
annulled,  the  girl  being  alUnved  anothvr  matriuK^nial 
experiment.  We  iMjudered  upon  this  free  and  easy 
adjustment  of  a  somewhat  solcinn  matter. 

(Jn  arriving  at  our  hotel  we  found  the  snake-charmer 
ready  for  his  work.  He  was  accompanied  by  two  tam- 
bourine ])la}ers,  who  beat  their  instruments  loudl}-  and 
chanted  wildly  over  a  dirty  bag  which  was  lying  on  the 
ground  before  them.  vSeated  in  red  chairs,  we  were 
surroundeil  by  a  crowd  of  Moors,  veiled  women,  and 
ragged  children,  li.stening  patiently  to  the  noise  and 
waiting  f')r  the  appearance  of  the  snakes,  which,  on  the 
opening  of  the  bag,  were  drawn  out  one  after  another 
to  the  number  of  six,  and  lied  together  by  the  tail  in 
two  groups  of  three  each,  sfpiirming  and  wriggling  at 
our  feet.  The  cluirmer  then  proceeded  to  staff  his 
mouth  with  straw,  from  wliich   in  a  few  minutes  he 


TANCiir.K.  223 

l)lc\v  .smoke  atul  fliinic,  and  llic  siinkcs  were  stijiposed 
to  l>e  well  diartiied.  luUt  lliis  lila/.iiij^  iiioiilh  they 
thrust  tlieir  heads,  bitiuj;  atid  \\()Uiidiii}^  the  man's 
tongue  until  blood  flowed  freely  and  was  exhibited 
with  great  apparent  pride.  The  performance  ended 
with  unbinding  the  tails,  the  freeing  of  the  snakes,  and 
their  roaming  savagely  over  the  street,  to  the  terror  of 
the  bystanders,  who  looked  with  horror  on  a  sharp,  fine 
t(Jolh  half  an  inch  long  which  each  snake  exhibited 
with  e\-ident  dire  intent.  The  exhibition  filled  the 
crowd  with  wonder,  and  m\self  with  an  a>surance  that 
flcstroying  the  f uigs  of  sn;ikes  renders  them  harmless, 
and  t>ing  their  tails  together  fills  them  with  confusion. 

This  morning,  mounted  on  a  mule  with  the  tall 
Moorish  soldier  of  the  consulate  marching  ahead,  and  a 
guide  in  blue  Turkish  trowsers  and  jacket  and  a  red 
fez  at  her  .side  Mrs.  I^oring  proceeded  to  visit  the 
Sultan's  palace,  and  to  .see  the  harem,  which  is  not 
visible  to  masculine  eyes.  Through  the  vilely-paved 
and  narrow  streets,  l)etween  the  low  white  stuccoed 
houses,  the  jirocession  jiassed  on  to  the  palace.  The 
interior  of  this  palace  is  a  great  courtyard,  floors  and 
walls  of  many  colored  mosaics,  and  the  pillars  and 
arches  white  with  lovely  lacework  in  ])laster,  to  match 
the  \."alls  of  the  bedrooms  which  open  into  the  court. 
The  ceilings  are  in  red  and  blue  Moorish  work  and 
are  very  pretty.  A  great  fountain  was  in  the  centre, 
from  which  the  way  was  led  to  the  harem. 

The  Sultan  of  Morocco  lives  in  I'ez,  but  he  spends  a 
month  or  two  each  year  in  Tangier,  and  as  lie  has  five 
hundred  wives  lie  leaves  a  few  in  each  palace.  Trom 
the  fountain-court  you  enter  another  court  finished  in 
mo.saics  with  graceful  jjillars  and  arches,  at   the   end 


221  A  V1:AK   in  PORTUGAL. 

of  which,  in  a  h>iii^  room  opciiiui;  from  it.  seven 
uonun  sat  or  rcrliiK-d  on  nii;s.  Five  were  youui:^  ami 
two  were  pretly,  with  dark  eyes  ami  fair  skins.  Tliey 
were  (lre>se(l  in  white,  with  broad  sashes,  and  veils 
fastened  away  from  their  fices,  while  the  prettiest  had 
a  red  fez  stuck  coquettislily  on  one  side  of  her  head. 
In  the  centre  of  the  .uronp  sat  the  oldest  woman,  crowned 
with  a  tnrb.'ui,  wlioextended  her  hand  to  the  visitor  with- 
out risinj.;  .and  offertd  tlie  only  easy  chair  in  the  room. 
A  ^re.it  dish  (jf  mai/.e  was  in  front  of  the  old  woman, 
whicii  she  was  piekin;^  while  the  }.;irls  wi-re  sewinj.;  on 
^^old  mnslin  or  .sortin^^  their  trinkets.  In  (>\\v  of  the 
ui)per  rooms  was  a  >-oun;.^  woman  established  by  her- 
self in  stclte,  with  a  lari;e  bVench  bedstead  coveretl  with 
pink  silk,  and  with  walls  decorated  in  a  most  lovely 
manner.  This  youn;>j  lady  was  exhibited  with  j^reat 
pride  and  w.is  evidently  a  favorite.  As  the  visitor 
came  down  into  the  court  a.L;ain  three  of  the  girls  were 
waiting  f»r  her,  and  one  examined  her  dress;  and 
another  laid  hands  on  her  sun-undirella,  which  she 
opened  with  a  cotpiettish  smile  and  held  over  her 
shoulder  ;  and  a  third  gave  her  a  prettily  embroidered 
handerchief  They  kissed  their  hand  to  the  depailing 
guest.  Ni)t  a  b(H)k,  or  a  llower,  or  guitar,  or  a  jncturc 
was  to  be  seen. 

Mairli  j^Uli. — We  got  out  of  loathsome  Tangier  on 
Monday  evening,  bound  f(^r  Catli/.,  on  the  French 
steamer,  Salvador,  sailing  from  Marseilles  t(j  the  "gem 
of  the  sea."  It  was  a  long  trip  b\'  oj.en  bo.at  from  the 
wretched  dark  stairs  to  the  stcauKT,  a  fitting  sequel 
to  the  wrdk  through  the  streets  well  suj)plied  with  dirt, 
and  diiukews,  and  Moors.  The  h.irbor  was  smooth, 
however,  and  our  hearts  were   fdled  with   hope  with 


CADIZ.  22S 

regard  to  the  night  passage  we  were  entering  \i[KyA. 
We  had  a  chatty  LVench  dinner  on  boanl.  in  wliieli  the 
demonstrative  GaHic  courtesy  contrasted  greatly  with 
the  grulTand  curt  faslijon  of  the  Anglo-vSaxons  we  had 
met  on  our  Meilitcrranean  voyage.  We  dined  hile  and 
retired  early.  About  half-i)ast  ten  we  got  inider  way, 
and  in  less  than  an  hour  we  were  awakened  hy  "  noise 
and  confusion,"  compared  to  which  that  which  broke 
up  the  ])()lilical  meeting  and  disturbed  the  political 
ideas  of  (i^ueral  Cass  .so  uiauy  jears  ago  was  (juietiiess 
itself.  The  revoKiug  .screw  was  shaking  the  vessel 
from  steui  to  stern.  The  rattling  of  the  engine  wa.S 
deafening.  The  waves  were  breaking  mercilessly 
against  the  sides  of  the  ship,  which  was  rolling  a.s 
if  suffering  from  intenss  internal  pains.  I  thought 
the  voyage  on  the  Mediterranean  was  bad  enough,  but 
it  was  bliss  itself  compared  with  this  trip  across  the 
oiK'uing  of  the  straits.  All  night  the  tunudt  con- 
timied.  The  wind  whistled,  the  engine  sighed,  the 
wa\es  dashed.  We  reached  Cadiz  about  seven  o'clock 
on  Tuesday  morning  in  the  midst  of  rain,  gloom, 
and  wind.  A  great  roUi;h  lateen  saibboat  drew  up 
alougside,  our  baggage  was  tuuibled  into  it,  we  tum- 
bled in  after  the  baggage,  and  for  one  long  hour 
we  beat  back  and  forth,  luishipped  and  lost  our  til- 
ler, were  cuffed  by  the  sail  and  bulTeted  by  the  wind 
and  washed  by  rain  and  spray.  At  last  we  crept  up 
the  wet  and  shining  steps  to  the  (juay  and  .started  for  a 
hotel  and  a  breakfast,  having  lost  our  .self- respect,  our 
confidence  in  mankind,  and  our  romantic  notions  about 
the  sea.  It  did  not  take  long  to  explore  Cadi/..  It  is 
the  whitest  and  cleanest  city  I  ever  saw.  The  walls  of 
the  houses  are  the  perfection  of  whitewash.  The  pave- 
15 


22r,  A  Y1:AK  in  I'OKTUiIAL 

Dicnts  are  as  clean  as  the  flagstones  of  a  patio.  The 
people  are  cheerful,  well-fed,  and  busy.  The  history 
of  the  city  is  most  romantic,  including  experiences 
with  the  Romans,  the  Moors,  tlie  v^paniards,  and  all 
othi-r  navigating  nations.  It  has  a  great  cathedral, 
a  hea\'y,  cold,  massive,  imposing,  iu)sentiment;d, 
famous,  beautiful  ."structure,  be-douied  and  be-columned 
extcrnall}'  and  internally,  so  lofty  and  gloomy  and 
hard  tliat  even  the  light  of  tlie  gosi)el  caiuiot  enlighten 
it.  There  is  not  a  vista  in  the  whole  buihling.  You 
can  ga/.e  ui>  to  the  high,  heaven-shaped  arches,  but 
\ou  cannot  look  aUjug  nave  or  passage  or  chapel. 
The  altar  is  discoiuagingly  bad.  The  jiictures  are 
copies.  There  was  a  mass  going  on  v.jien  we  entered, 
and  the  voices  (;f  the  .s'ugers  reverberated  through  the 
great  walled  spaces,  and  the  organ  pealed  with  a  force 
and  beauty  heard  almost  oidy  amidst  the  tlumxlers  of 
a  tempest  among  the  hills.  We  left  the  cathedral 
oppressed  by  its  colorless  and  massive  v/alls  and 
arches,  and  as  we  wandered  away  we  turned  and 
l()oked  back  as  one  would  on  a  hard  and  frowning 
cl-i ff.  We  were  obliged  to  go  for  rehef  to  a  convent  of 
Caimehins  where  a  crowd  of  1>eggars  had  gathered  for 
a  rehgious  .service,  and  s<Hne  of  Mtuillo's  jiictures 
waiinerl  and  clieeicd  our  souls,  W'e  drove  annnid  the 
h;u])or  .side,  along  the  <piay  turned  a  contemptuous 
look  upon  the  sea,  .snapjxjd  (uir  fingers  at  the  waves, 
and  j)a)ing  our  n.si)ects  to  the  sweet  and  busy  town, 
de])arted  for  Seville. 

Our  j«nirney  through  the  valley  of  the  "  (»ua<lal(juivir, 
gentle  ri\er,"'  was  deliberate  and  delightful.  We  r;ui 
through  the  salt  marshes  wliich  lie  at  the  mouth  of  the 
fair  .stream,  reminding  us  of  the  Lynn  marshes  and  the 


SEVILLE.  227 

Eastern  Railroad,  only  worse,  and  soon  reached  the 
beautiful  landscape  for  which   Andalusia   is   famous. 
The  grain  was  waving  in  the  wind,    the  grass  was 
springing,  the  broad  ploughed  lands  were  rejoicing  it» 
their  rich  brown,  the  pastures  were  adorned  by  flocks 
of  super!)  sheep  and  herds  of  fine  cattle  and  droves 
of  horses.     The  olive  groves  were  like  the  luxuriant 
orchards  of  a  former  New  ]Cngland.     My  agricultural 
eye  was  fully  satisfied,  and  I  realized  how  the  Span- 
iards and  Moors  and  Romans  1»elieved  in  the  possession 
of  land  as  the  foundation  (.)f  wealth,  and  in  agriculture 
as  the  most  reliable  and  substantial  of  all  industries. 
The  journey  roused    all  my  slumbering  rural  tastes, 
blunted  somewhat  by  a  winter  in  the  city  of  Lisbon 
and  bv  a  prolonged  experienc  e  on  tlie  sea.      I  tliought 
lovingly  of  my  acres,   and  I  was  inclined  to  despise 
those  mockers  who  have  ridiculed  my  love  of  the  land. 
We  reached  vSeville  about  seven  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing and  proceeded  to  the  Ilc^tel  de  Madrid,  through  a 
diversity   of  streets,    some   as   wide   as    Pennsylvania 
Avenue   and   some   as   narrow   as   the    filthy  lanes  of 
Tangier,      To  be    seated    at    the  dinner-table  was  but 
the  work  of  a  moment,  and  as  we  sat  there  we  were 
joined  by  I'ercival  Lowell,  who  rejoiced  in  us  as  we 
did  in  hhn,  and  reminded  us  of  New  ]vngland  even 
more  than  the  green  hills  of  Andalusia  had  done,  and 
of  Corea  and  Polo,  and  the  lively  scenes  of  cultivated 
Poslon,  and  the  graces  of  an  accomi)lished  writer. 

The  next  morning  we  set  forth  to  see  Seville.  W'e 
saw  the  old,  lovely  cathedral,  as  beautiful  as  nature  in 
her  fairest  form,  with  its  pictures(|ue  tower,  its  graceful 
minarets,  its  superb  doorways,  its  artistic  walls,  rent 
and  riven  and  sn])ported  by  huge  timbers,  and  appar- 


22S  A  YHAK  IN  PORTl'CiAL. 

ently  on  the  vcrt;c  of  dissolution.  \Vc  drove  along  the 
glillcriiig  palace  of  the  Duke  de  Montpensier  and  the 
great  garden  adjoining,  and  far  out  into  the  l)eautiful 
coinitrN'  Nshi'h  surroinids  the  town.  We  t'\])lored  the 
"  House  of  I'ilale,"  erected  liy  a  devoted  erusader  and 
handed  down  lhn»u;^li  the  ages  as  an  exact  model  of 
the  home  <;f  the  weak  and  wicked  Roman  ruler  who 
delivered  Christ  over  to  the  bloodthirsty  Jews,  Asa 
.specimen  of  beautiful  ]»alatial  architecture,  with  tiles 
aufl  stucco  api)ropriate,  it  is  finite  uue<iualled.  Wc 
entered  the  Church  of  the  Caridad,  the  Charity  IIos- 
])ilal  wliete  the  two  great  pictures  of  Murillo,  the 
"  Moses  Striking  the  Rock  "  and  "  Christ  IMessing  the 
T/)aves  and  Im^Iics,"  hang  in  such  a  "dim  religious 
ligh.t"  that  it  is  impo>sil)le  to  study  them,  and  where 
you  are  bewildered  by  gilded  colunuis  .and  fnie  marbles; 
And  we  drove  out  across  the  river  into  the  suburbs, 
where  the  .Mar(|uis  I'ickman  has  his  great  pottery  :uid 
has  accumulated  his  gre.it  fortune.  Von  may  be  sure 
I  was  e.iger  to  see  one  who  bears  the  name  for  wliich 
I  have  so  nnich  l')\c  and  rc-pcct  and  admiration,  and 
which  has  been  so  dear  t')  me  all  ni\'  life.  We  strolI<d 
thiciti^'.h  his  ^'jcat  warehoiisc,  and  I  1<  anifl  fnmi  the 
biMihi  r 'it  ili<-  MaMjui  •  that  his  fallui' came  from  I/»n- 
i\i<]\  mit)i-  lliMi)  :ii>.ly  yfais  a^'.o  and  t;.tabli->h<'d  the 
biisiu'  s",  wlii'  h  h.id  }.'row!i  and  pro-ijicred  greatly  under 
the  iiands  of  the  fatnily.  I'.eyond  the  nanu-,  I  coidfl 
not  trace  ^!lc  count  <  lion,  i'ut  for  me  the  Jiame  was 
enou;.di,  and  I  made  u]»  the  lineage. 

We  met  an  Ameri'an  party  at  dinner,  Mrs.  lUittcr- 
field  .and  her  dauediter.  now  Mrs.  IJallard  vSmith,  .Mr. 
LoweI^  and  his  fricTid  Curtis,  engaged  in  Spanish  liter- 
ature and  art,  who  ;idj(rarne<l  with  my  family  to  a  gi])sy 
dance,  while  I  retired  to  write  this  gossipy  jcjurnal. 


SEVILLE.  229 

March  j^oth. — We  explored  vSeville,  and  departed  on 
the  niorninj;   of    the    27II1    for  Badajos   and   Iyisl)OU, 
leavinjL?  l)eliind  us  a  most   aj^rcealde  group  of  travel- 
lers and  a  most  intercstinj;  and  cliarmijiK  city.     When 
.you   have  htconie  familiar  with   Seville,  you  are  not 
surprised  that  tlie  IMi<enieians  clustered  on  its  "  plain," 
that  the  Greeks  and   Romans   f<»llo\ved    in   turn,  and 
that  Julius  Ciesar  fell   into  its   charms.     One  hy  one 
they  all  lield  court  here,   and  their  marks  remain  to 
this  day.     vSomehow  its  antifiuily  impresses  one  more 
tlian  the  ruins  of  Rome  or  the  excavations  of  Pompeii, 
Its   attractions   are   so   evident    now — its  climate,    its 
landscai)e,   its  distant  views,    its  river— that  you  are 
not  surprised  at  any  evidence  of  its  ancient  and  hurled 
luxury   and   refinement.     When   you   wander   heyond 
the  art  and  architecture  for  which  Seville  is  famous, 
you  reach  at  once  remains  of  Roman  wealth  and  civili- 
zation which  are  surpassed  in  nocpiarter  of  that  world- 
wide  emi)ire.     licneath  a  little    villa;.;e  less  than  five 
mile->  from  the  river  bank,  now  oecuj)ied  hy  Seville,  lies 
buried  one  of  the  most  beautiful  towns  of  ancient  times, 
now  deserted  by  the  windin^^  river  and  concealed  from 
hmniin  vi(  w.      It;ilica   was  once  a  suiniiirr  tes(»rt  for 
Koiiian   plr:i-.nrt'-.scckers,    the  birth])l;ice   of  cnipi'rors 
jitid    scholars.      I'onnded    two    hunduil    yens   before 
Christ,  it  w.is  ;idoineil  with  most  sniiiptnoiis  dwelling's 
erected    by    the   lovers   of   Andalusiaii    langnor.     The 
(iotlis  ]>reserved  it  in  their  merciless  r:iv;i}^cs,  ;iiid  even 
after  the  riser  had   char.Kvl   its  cotirse  its  pr(»^])erity 
continned  until  the   .Moors  abandoned   it  as  a  slre.anv- 
de'-erted   conntry.      On   the  spot  once  occupied  by   its 
};or-eous  builtlint,^s,  its  };anlens  and  amphitheatres,  a 
hundred   \ears  a;^o  its  ]);ivenients  were  discovered  and 
the  nio^t   beautiful   and    jnrfect  amphitheatre   was  un- 


230  A  YHAK  IN  PORTUGAL. 

cartlad.  T-roni  the  liiia- of  its  disc.vfiy  tnilil  now  it 
li.'is  poun-d  rr;ij;iiiciUsortlK.  ;iit  wliidi  .'idonicd  i[h  y;:i\. 
<liMis  :iMd  |)rd;i(vs  inlo  Hk-  public  ^'joiiiids  ;iih1  tiiiis.-tmi 

•-•r    .Sx-Villc       St.'ltlK'S     ;llld     ..lii-ic^    ;iild     lo!llI)S    of    Mlnst 

clabf^rale  slrtuluiv  have  Ik-cu  disojvcicd,  and  Uk.-  usual 
Ira^'cdy  of  imperial  cities  in  ancient  days  is  written  on 
the  hurial-place  of  I). -una  Unaca  Osorio,  who  was 
burned  alive  by  I'edro  the  Cruel  for  rejeelin^r  hj^^ 
addresses.  The  ruins  of  Ilalica  tell  a  story  of  Roman 
luxury  and  medi.-eval  beauty  liardly  surpassed  any- 
where within  the  limits  of  the  j^reat  empire. 

lUtt  the  Seville  into  whose  bosom  all  the  wealth  and 
culture  «.f  Italica  were  poured,  lias  taken  r.p  the  work 
of  her  ancient  sister  and  displays  her  charms  of  art 
and  architecture  with  all  the  beauty  of  the  land  she 
occU])ies.  She  i)f)s-es^es  at  this  day  some  relic  of 
every  civilization  which  has  ever  found  a  home  in  her 
IxM-deis.  I'.eneath  S:mtia;',o  d  M;iyor  are  the  ruins  of  ;i 
Koman  lcm|,i.  .  Tlie  'Innvh  of  Santa  Marina  has  a 
beaulihil  M.;oii  h  "h.qM  1.  Sin  S  ilvador  wa:-i  a.n)o,f|nc 
forc/nlurics.  Sant;i  Maiia  la  jll.uica  was  a  synn^^.-u.- 
d<nvn  to  J  VM.  'I'll''  Al(:i/;ir,  Hi.il  m..  ,t  inten-.tin;';^  :in<l 
bcruitilul  (omj.IitMtiMii  <,r  M.KMi.h  and  f'.oihic  arcl'iitcc- 
Inie,  occupi<s  the  Nit<- <.l'  the  hou  <•  (.|  Ca  .>-,ar.  and  hart 
borrowfl  its  decorations  fnun  Hm-  Alhambia,  Win; 
Charles  \'.  was  married  to  Isabel  of  roitu;;al  in  tiie 
Kori^^eons  hall  whose  vestibule  was  surroiuided  with 
Roman  I'illars  oiK-nin.-;  out  upon  gardens  like  the  Iles- 
perides.  whose  air  is  still  i)erfumed  by  oran-e-bloss(jms, 
and  whose  paths  wind  throu.^;h  the  dark-j;reen  slopes 
and  noweriuK  shrubi)ery.  Here  the  artificial  pond 
where  Philip  V.  usrd  to  fish  still  sparkles  in  the  sun. 
Here  are  even  now  the  baths  in  which  Marin  de  Padilla 


SEVlLLt  23t 

bnthc'l,  and  here  the  scene  of  her  Iriuinphant  rule  over 
Pedio  llic  Cniel,  whn  .suireiKk-red  to  no  charms  hut 
hers,     It)  the  j^reat  hall  of  the  atiihashadois  this  hhjod- 
thirsly  njonarch  caused   the   Master  of  Salltia^;o,   his 
brother,  to  he  murdered  while  he  entertained  him  as 
his  guest  ;  and  here  he  put  Aha  Said  to  death  in  order 
to  seize  his  jewels,  amonj^  wliich  was  the  "  fair  ruhy, 
great  like  a  racket-ball,"  which  l)om  l'e<lro  gave  to  the 
IJlack  Prince,  and  which  is  the  gem  wliich  now  adorns 
the  crown  of  l-'ngland.     The  Christi;ni  architecture  of 
Seville  also  stands  uin'i\-alle  1  in  graiuler.r  and  beauty. 
The  great  catlu.dral,  it  is  true,  is  tolterin.;  beneath  the 
weight  of  years,  but  even  amidst  its  artificial  support  it 
fdls  one  with  wonder  and  admiration.     More  than  a 
century  it  was  in  building,  and  it  stamls  to-day  as  a 
museum  of  fine  art,  notwithstanding  the  spoliation  of 
the  invatU'r  inid  the  dishonesty  of  its  architects.     It  is 
a  romantic  gronj)  of  buildings  in  whith  the  cathedral 
staiuls.       Abo\e   all    tis's   the    (iir.dda,    that   bt;iutiful 
lower  which   forms  the   (nii»halio    feature   of  vScville, 
whose  belfry  is  g.ii ded  with  a  molto  from  the  I'nnerbs, 
j\oiihii    /)iuin'tii  /('i/issiiiKi    /idiis,    and    which,    when 
li};h1<d  at   iii;',ht,  s' ciii'.  to  be  a  cluster  of  sl.iis  in  the 
fnininii'nl,      It  w.r;  (hiiii  tliis  towrr  th;it  tin*  iniicssin 
sunnr.fined  the  failhlnl  to  ]»ia><.rs,  and  heie  the  great 
bells  .sound   foilli   the  si.;nal   to  solemn  Christian  cere- 
monies.     At  its  fool  is  the  court  of  orange  trees  witli  its 
Moslem  fcnintain,  its  Moorish  arches,  and  bronze  doors 
of  exipiisite   design  and   construction.     The  Chapter 
Library,   founded   by  the   son  of  CoUunbns,   ofTcrs  its 
rich  treasures  close  at  hand  to  the  .scholar  of  to-day,  as 
it  once  did  to  the  canons  to  whom  it  was  beiiueathed, 
and    you   read    the    manuscript  of   CoUimbns'    travels 


232 


A  Vt;AR   IN  I'Oi'TIYJAI,. 


nixl  Oie  IrtMlisf  <>(  liis  cabin  coiiipaiiioii,  T'clri  de  Aliacf), 
wrillcn  duriii;^'  the  cwiilfi-l  voya^^e  of  discovery.  I'l-oin 
the  walls  al>(>\-e  the  hook-cases  look  down  tlie  portraits 
of  tlie  archhisliops,  %vlio  were  in  their  day  tlie  jalhirs 
of  the  Churcli,  and  the  vice-f;erents  of  God.  At  tlie 
liead  of  the  wide  Iiall  oj)enin^'  into  tlie  lihrary  stands 
encase.l  f(ir  su].port  and  safety  the  sword  of  Coinit 
Gonzales,  which  Garcia  Perez  de  \'argas  used  in  driv- 
inj^  the  Moors  from  vSeville.  An  inscription  in  \'isi- 
goth  hanj^s  ujH)n  the  v/all,  one  of  the  remains  of  the 
period  of  Ilonoratns  in  64 1.  The  manuscripts  and  the 
ve^um-1K^und  volumes  remind  one  of  the  period  when 
the  monks  of  the  middle  ages  kept  the  lam])S  of  litera- 
ture trimmed  and  l)ur;;ini;,  and  of  who'u  Lon-felh.w  in 
"  Hyperion  ""  says  :  "  That  they  slept  their  lives  away 
is  most  initrue.  I'or  in  an  av;e  when  books  were  few, — 
so  few,  so  precious,  that  th<.-y  were  oftei;  cliained  to  their 
oaken  shelves  with  imn  chains,  like  K''ill<-y-'daves  to 
their  ben<hev,  these  men,  with  their  laborious  hands, 
Coj)ied  u])on  i)aichnient  all  tlie  l-.u,-  and  wisdom  of  the 
pa^.t,  and  trruisniitt<  d  it  to  u^.  i'erhaps  it  is  not  too 
mueh  to  say  that  but  for  the:  e  monks  not  one  line  of 
the  classics  would  have  re.uhed  our  day.  vSurely, 
then,  we  can  pardon  someihin,:;  to  tliose  superstitious 
aj^es,  ]»erh;.])s  ( ven  the  niystieisiu  of  the  scholastic 
philosophy  ;  since  afti  r  adl  we  cm  find  no  harm  in  it, 
oidy  the  mistaking;  of  the  j-ossible  for  the  re.-d,  and  the 
hi-h  asjiiritigs  of  the  Jinman  mind  after  a  lon;;-sought 
and  unknown  soiiu'what.  I  think  the  nrune  of  ^blrtin 
Luther,  the  monk  of  Wittenber-,  alone  sufTicient  to 
redeem  all  monkliood  from  tl;e  repro;ich  of  la/.iness. 
If  this  will  not,  pjrh.aps  the  vast  folios  of  Thomas 
Aquinas  will  ;  or  the  colorless  manuscripts  still  treas- 


Sr.VlLLH.  233 

iircd  in  the  old  libraries,  whose  yellow  atul  wrinkled 
pages  remind  one  of  the  hands  lliat  wrote  them  and 
the  faces  that  once  bent  over  them," 

But  not  alone  the  works  of  art  and  architecture  and 
genius  which  stand  rotnul  al^out  the  cathedral,  but  the 
internal  beauties  also  fdl  the  mind  with  lofty  thoughts 
and  warm  the  heart  with  hi)ly  emotions.     The  Core, 
the   Gothic    Retablo,   the    Capilla    Real,   the   Chapter 
House,  all  represent  the  power  of  architecture  to  ex- 
press   the    religious    sentiments.       In     their    keeping, 
moreover,  arc   deposited    the  works   of  the   most   in- 
spired painters.     The  "  Guardian  Angel  "  of  Murillo, 
representing  the  loftiest  love  and  the  most  earnest  and 
childlike  confidence,  greets  you  as  you  enter,  and  the 
"  Visiou  of  St.  Anthony,"  in  which  the  infant  Jesus  is 
advancing  from  the  radiance  of  heaven  through  groups 
of  angels  to  pour  into  the  soul  of  the  devoted  saint  all 
the  strength  and  beauty  of  a  child's  love,  l)lesses  you 
as  >ou  dei)arl.      These  children   e\pre>s  all  that   Mu- 
rillo desired  lo  jjresent  in  his  ixtrtraitures  of  the  child 
Je^us,  and  which  he  fuled  to  present  in  so  m:uiy  of  his 
pictures.     The  comitanion  of  llie   "  Guardian  Angel," 
and  the  radiant  form  which  advances  along  the  heaven- 
ly way  to  meet  »St.  Anthony,  are  children  with  all  the 
perfection  of  cliildliood,  all  the  sweet  maturity  of  in- 
fruicy,  which  is  perha])S  more  iin])reNsive  than  that  of 
riper  years.     The  faith  and  hope  and  exalt.iti(»n  which 
Murillcy  has  wrought  into  these  little  faces,  the  ecstasy 
of  attitude   and   motion  which   marks  their  forms   as 
their  spirits  irradiate  tlieir  features,  show  how   ihor- 
(nighly  he  understootl  and  ai)preciated  tliat  marvellous 
pcnver  wliich  constitutes  the  "  wisilom  of  babes,"   and 
which  tlie  Great  Teacher  recognized  when  lie  taught 


23  t  A  YL'AK  IN  I'OKTIJ(}AL 

his  disciples  to  become  as  little  children.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  that  Murillo,  and  not  he  alone,  painted  too 
many  infants  and  not  enough  children  ;  too  many  de- 
pendents and  not  enougli  companions  fitted  to  inspire 
and  competent  to  recei^"e  the  depth  and  meaning  of 
parental  love.  In  the  gallery  where  is  found  the  great 
collection  of  his  works  this  defect  is  most  manifest. 
Neither  the  strength  of  maternity  nor  the  strength  of 
childhood  appears  in  many  of  his  pictures,  which  are 
too  often  portraits  of  sweet  peasant  girls  with  infants 
in  their  arms.  But  when  lie  rises  to  the  full  capacity 
of  his  genius  no  artist,  ancient  or  modern,  equals  him 
in  the  delineation  of  that  spiriiucUc  which  belongs  to 
the  \'irgin  and  the  Child — not  even  Raphael  with  his 
rol)ust  but  s])irituali/ed  iHjrnarinas  and  his  inspired 
Italian  Ixtys.  And  so  Murillo  gives  \-itality  and 
greatness  to  Seville.  It  was  his  home.  Here  he 
wc^rked,  and  here  stands  his  nujiiument  overlooking 
the  sphere  of  his  labors  and  glorifying  the  si)ot  he 
made  immortal,  as  the  lofty  statue  of  Cameons  com- 
mands the  hills  and  sipiares  of  Lisbon.  Here  also  is 
Murillo' s  house,  lying  close  to  the  city  wall  in  the  pictu- 
resque Jews'  quarter,  and  containing  many  rare  frag- 
ments of  his  art,  small  pictures  of  the  \'irgiu  and 
Child,  a  young  John  Baptist  with  the  lamb,  a  Head 
of  Christ,  accompanied  by  a  little  collection  of  works 
of  his  friends  and  contemporaries. 

Seville  has  many  points  of  great  interest,  and  her 
history  is  most  eventful  and  fascinating.  Her  com- 
mercial record  connects  her  name  with  every  maritime 
nation,  and  the  river  on  whose  bank  she  stands  belongs 
not  only  t(»  the  courses  of  trade,  but  to  poetry  and 
romance.      She  has  been  the  abo<le  of  great  ])ower,  bore 


SEVILLE.  235 

once  a  Punic  name,  was  re-baptized  ])y  the  Greeks, 
then  by  the  Moors,  was  the  Ronuila  or  Httle  Rome  of 
Cxsar,  was  the  capital  of  the  Goths,  gave  archbishops  . 
who  are  now  its  sainted  tutclars  to  the  Church,  surren- 
dered to  the  vSheik  of  Jaen.  furnished  the  model  of 
Don  Quixote,  was  the  capital  of  Spain  until  Charles  V. 
removed  the  court  to  Valladolid,  and  when  the  New 
World  was  discovered  "  Ik  came  the  mart  of  the  golden 
colonics  and  the  residence  of  princely  njcrchants." 
lUit  the  pride  of  the  rf)yal  city  now  is  the  fact  that 
here  Murillo  wrought,  and  here  his  works  and  memory 
are  cherished. 

We  approached  Seville  over  the  fertile  valley  of  the 
GuadaUiuiver,  whose   agricultural   charms  I  have  al- 
ready <le>cribed.     When  we  left  it  we  traversed   the 
same  regioti  of  olive-groves  and  vineyards  until  we 
reached  the  high  and  rugged  ridges  which  divide  them 
from  the  lauds  of  e(iual  fertility  and  beauty  through 
which  the  Guadiana  flows.     The  broad  landscape  was 
made  up  of  a  succession  of  wide  wheat  fields,   newly 
phmghed  and  newly  planted  hillsides  and  valleys,  and 
innuense  groves   of  olive-trees.     Men   and  women   in 
small  groups  were  toiling  on  the  land,  and  great  flocks 
of  sheep  and  goats,   obedient  to  the  call  of  the  shep- 
herd,   grazed   on   the   pastures.     It  was  very  easy  to 
understand  why  Roman  and  Spaniard  had  made  this 
region  the  seat  of  their  pi)wer,  and  why  they  .so  reluct- 
antly relin([uished  their  ^Kisse.ssions  there.     It  was  easy 
to  .-^ee  why  the  spirit  of  the  jx-ople  was  in  accord  with 
Ct)lumbus  in  his  great  work  of  disccnery,  and  to  realize 
the  wealth  and  strength  to  be  derived  from  agricidturc 
alone.     From  very  early  morning  to  early  evening  we 
travelle<l  on  a  train  whose  speed  was  limited  by  law  to 


2;,r,  A  YIIAK  IN  PORTUGAL. 

fifteen  miles  iui  hour,  mid  which  required  no  lep^fil 
restraint  to  confir.e  it  to  such  shr^i^isli  progress,  and 
found  ourselves  \n  Mcrida  called  upon  to  change  for 
Ikulajos.  Merida  is  on  the  Guadiana.  has  a  Roman 
])ri(lge  built  bv  Trajan,  which  has  withstood  bravely 
the  ravages  of  time  and  ilood  and  the  I-'rench  invasion, 
— that  convulsion  so  fatal  to  art  and  architecture,  and 
literature  and  science,  and  social  peace  and  prosperity 
in  Sixain.  It  was  to  stop  Marmont  that  the  arches  of 
the  liridge  were  destnned.  Merida  has  a  Roman  castle 
which  has  been  occupied  by  the  bishop  and  by  the 
Knights  Templar,  an  arch  built  by  Trajan,  the  remains 
of  a  Circus  Maxinuis,  an  old  church  erected  in  the 
fourth  century,  a  M<jor'sh  Alca/ar  built  by  the  Moors 
in  H35,  ;uifl  a  Museum  of  Roman  Antifpiities. 

A  slow  run  of  a  few  miles  brought  us  to  Badajos, 
wliere  we  remained  a  couple  of  hours  and  prepared  f(^r 
a  night-jomiiey  to  Lisbon.  Badajos  is  a  miserable 
town.  Of  course  it  h:;s  a  fnie  bridge  across  Ihe  Gau- 
diana,  three  or  four  hundred  >ears  old,  a  public 
s(]uare,  in  which  stand  a  cathedral,  an  advertised  m/'i', 
and  a  town-hall.  The  cathedral  has  considerable 
merit  .and  the  tower  considerable  dignity.  There  are 
hard  old  paintings,  and  picturescpie  cloisters  covered 
with  layer  after  layer  of  whitewash.  Badajos  as  a 
frontier  town  has  seen  the  fights  and  sieges  so  frequent 
in  S]ianish  municipalities.  Alon/o  IX.  took  it  from 
the  Moors  in  I2;^5  ;  the  Portuguese  besieged  it  in  1050; 
Jose  I maz  .sold  the  ])lace  to  .Sonlt  in  iSio;  inefficient 
I'.eresford  failed  to  rec<n'er  it;  and  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington turned  his  attention  to  it,  of  course  stormed  it, 
his  soldiers  sacked  it,  and  he  obtained  a  i)osition  which 
enabled  him  to  hold  Lisbon  and  to  drive  the  French 


IJADAJOS.  237 

from  the  north.  liadajos  is  a  wcll-forlificcl  town  ;  its 
gateways  and  bastions  presenting  a  most  imposing 
appearance,  and  this  is  all.  It  stands  in  that  delight- 
ful agricultural  region  I  have  descril)ed,  and  has  been 
a  centre  of  every  form  of  civilization  since  the  days  of 
the  Romans. 

We  left  it  with  jileasure  on  a  night-train  for  Lisbon, 
in  a  com])artment  car  without  sleci)ing   accommoda- 
tions, and  imjirisoned  in  that  barbarous  and  disgusting 
fashion  the  traveller  finds  so  often  in  Ivurope — acconnno- 
dations  which  wonUi  Ijc  deslroycd  in  America  as  soon 
as  a  decent  and  outraged  peo])lc  could  get  at  them.      I 
bought  three  first-class  tickets  at  Ikidajos,  or  supposed 
I  did,   having  paid  a  firNt-class  price,  paid  for  a  bag- 
gage-check, look  my  seat,  followed  by  my  family,  who 
were  j^rejiared  to  share  the  dangers  and  sufferings  of  the 
trip.      We  arranged  ourselves  as  comfortably  as  po.ssi- 
ble,    purMied     our    wa\'    a    few    miles    to    the    frontier 
cu^tom-lu)Use,    had  our   baggage  paNsed    thiough    the 
influence  of  an  imposing  diplomatic  passport,  and  then 
SL-tlled  down  for  the  night  with  every  discomfort  of  a 
cramped  position,  a  rattling,  jolting  car,  and  a  rough 
track.     The  painful  hours  wore  away  until  about  mid- 
night, when  two  persons  clad  in  male  attire  insisted  on 
entering  and   taking  what  room  there  was  kft.     This 
was  done  against  our  gentle  protests.     Our  mild  asser- 
tions ha<l  no  efiect,  nor  had  our  united  vociferations  in 
profane  ICnglish  when  one  of  the  persons  ([uietly  drew 
a  cigarette  from  his  pocket,  lighted  it,  and  conunenced 
that  fumigatory  outrage  n:et  with  all  over  Spain  and 
Portugal.     We  opened   the  wimlows  to  let  the  fresh 
cold  night-air  in  and  the  storm  and  smoke  out.     After 
a  while  the  cigarette  was  meekly  extingui.shcd — but 


238  A  YFiAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

not  initil  two  Il^criaiis  had  k-ariK-d  the  sound  of  Ameri- 
can imprecation. 

I  liad  been  cheated  at  Badajos,  having  paid  first-class 
price  for  second-class  tickets.  In  the  night-time  I  was 
infornied  that  I  was  in  a  wrong  carriage,  was  obhged 
to  jiay  my  additional  fare,  and  proceeded.  \Vc  reached 
Liijbon  at  six  o'clock. 


CHAPTHR  Xlll. 

LISBON.-ANTIQUITY.— ARCHITECTURE.-- 
AN    INTI;IWI[:W. 

Afyril  .f(/i. — When  I  ivtunicd  from  Rome  I  found 
CIk'sUt  Iictv,  who  loved  art  and  knew  all  the  artists, 
and  never  put  brush  to  canvas  nor  fin^x-r  to  clay  ; 
who  loved  books  and  was  intimate  with  all  good 
authors,  and  never  wrote  a  volume  ;  who  was  welcome 
at  the  fireside  of  all  great  thinkers,  and  knew  how 
to  encourage  them  without  interference  ;  who  talked 
of  drowning  and  Lowell,  and  Story  and  Tennyson, 
and  Longfellow  and  Agassi/,  as  friends,  and  was 
Chester  the  sympathizer  with  them  all.  He  had 
started  from  New  York  and  had  travelled  thnmgh 
I/)ndon,  and  Paris,  and  Rome,  and  Venice,  and  Naples, 
and  Madrid,  and  had  come  to  Lisbon  to  sec  something 
new.  "Nobody  goes  to  Lisbo!i,"  he  said  ;  "nobody 
seems  to  know  much  about  Lisbon  ;  an  old  friend  of 
mine  came  down  here  in  liis  yacht,  and  lay  a  fortnight 
in  the  harbor  without  going  ashore,  so  poor  an  opinion 
had  he  of  the  attractions  of  Lisbon.  Ikit  how  do  you 
manage  to  do  up  Rome  in  a  week  ?"  asked  he.  "  As 
the  Frenchman  did,"  said  L  "  There  were  three  of 
us,"  he  replied  to  a  similar  question.  "  myself,  my 
wife,  and  the  boy  ;  in  the  da\time  I  took  the  restau- 
rants, my  wife  went  through  the  churches,  and  the  boy 


210  A  YIIAR  IN  I'OKTl'GAL. 

walked  the  galleries.     We  all  met  in  the  evening  and 
compared  notes,"     Unt  it  wa.s  evident  this  plan  would 
not  answer  for  the  unknown  l,isl;on,  and  it  was  there- 
fore  dcterjnihed    that  Chester  should  join  mc  in   the 
cxploriiij^j  expedition,  and  enjo}'  the  pleasures  and  sur- 
prises of  a  new  laiul.     To  him  ]',ngland  meant  P.rown- 
inj;  an<l  Mrs.  l>rowniiit^  anrl  Landr^r,  and  in  old  times 
Ro;;ers'   break fasl-lahle  ;   Paris  mvaiit    Dutnas.  f^rrr  it 
/lis,  \'ietor  Hu.^M,  Al])h<)n>e  Dauflet,  Alfred  de  Mnsset, 
an>l  Sainle-lUnve  ;   Roim-  meant   a  hrilliant  K^"""!'  ''^ 
lCn.i;li>h    aii'l     AiiuTie.ms  ;      .Madrid     iiiiuiit     Castelar, 
wh(;m  Cluster  loved  hi-cause  Sumner  loved  him.     The 
miii'l  of  the  y;n-at  Spanish  orator  aiul   repuhlic-an  was 
still  occupied  with  the  re\«/)ution  in  ]>ra/.il,  and  I  have 
no  douht  it  was  his  discussion  f>f  Portugal  in  this  con- 
nection that  had  filled  Chester's  mind   with  a  desire  to 
.see    Lishon.        It    was    evident    that    Castelar    hoped 
tlirough  tlie  influence  of  Pirazil   to  .see  the  House  of 
Ih'agan/.a  aii<l  all  its  coiuu'ttions  utterly  o\'crthrown  in 
Portugal,      lie    coiisolvd    himself   with    the    idea    that 
l)om   Carlos,    th.e  reigning  king,   is  really  a  i)rince  of 
the  house  of  C<jburg,   Ijut  this  was  not  the  utter  an- 
nihilation of  the  family  which  he  had  long  waited  for. 
"  It  is  the  two  centuries  and  a  half  of  Bragan/.a  rule," 
said  he.  "which  ha\e  pre\ented  Portugal  from  joining 
that    rc])ul)lican    movement   which    lias   occupi<-(l    the 
thfaivhb.  of  I'.iuopi',   and   wc   lii\e  .--.ccn  that  unhappy 
king<loin   deli\aied  by  this   f.imily   first  to  the  Jesuits 
and  afterwards  to  ]'"ngland.   so  that  she  should   ne\er 
enjoy  independence  .an<l  autouom\'  of  her  own."      Cas- 
telar charged  this  family  with  ha\ing  lost  the  Indies 
and  I5ra/.il,  and  i)robably  would  h.ave  charged  to  tliem 
the  recent  despoiling  of  Africa.      He  denounced  their 


LISBON.  241 

flight  to  Brazil  and  their  acceptance  of  a  constitution 
for  Portugal  at  the  hands  of  iCnghuid,  condemned  in 
uiuneasured  terms  the  reactionary  movement  of  Dotu 
Miguel,  and  ridiculed  the  a])i)eal  of  Maria  Gloria  for 
aid  to  defend  "  what  in  the  language  of  the  Hragan- 
zas  is  called  the  monaichy  and  ijulependence  of  Lus- 
itania." 

Castelar  thinks  that  Portugal  n)eanwhile  has  been  in 
fluenced  largely  by  Kra/il — the  only  instance  in  history 
in  which  a  colony  liasconlrollcd  a  mollicr  coiuitry.  He 
says  :  "  She  supjilied  the  sinews  of  war  in  the  contests 
witli  vSpain  ;  she  filled  the  coffers  of  the  Uragan/.as  ;  she 
sent  forth  the  liberal  charters  which  Dom  Pedro,  father 
of  the  ex-emperor,  granted  to  Portngal  ;  her  rulers  have 
joined  every  power  engaged  in  the  humiliation  of  Portu- 
gal. And  now  it  is  to  be  hoped  thai  a  rjsitig  repnblic  in 
Brazil  will  extend  its  influence  to  that  mother  country 
.she  has  ruk-d  so  lf)ng.  The  deposition  of  Doiii  Pedro 
ends  the  Braganza  rule,  and  gives  Portugal  an  oppor- 
tunity for  a  new  career,  a  career  which  the  Braganzas 
might  have  inaugurated  had  lliey  had  wisdom  and  cour- 
age sufllcient  for  such  no])le  work.  P'or  more  tluui  fifty 
years  he  has  worn  the  crown  which  he  inherited  from 
those  who  lost  to  Portugal  all  her  resplendent  power  in 
.South  America  and  tlie  Indies,  and  has  cherished  all  Ihc 
wr.ith  which  naliually  fills  upon  the  authors  of  siuh  (hs- 
asteis  in  the  fimilies  which  sufler  from  their  fudls  and 
follies,  'I'lie  republicans  of  Portugal  posses->all  these  ii  ri- 
tating  men  lories  as  a  source  of  strength  to  their  own  cause. 
To  their  friends  in  lirazil  they  send  word.-,  of  encourage- 
ment and  congratulation,  evidently  feeling  that  day  has 
dawned  also  for  themselves.  Should  mi'U  of  affairs 
arise   to  j^dve  eflect   to  the  teachings  and  doctrines  of 


212  A  YEAR  IN  rORTUGAL. 

those  who  are  endeavoring^  to  lead  Portuguese  tliought 
iu  the  paths  of  free  government,  tlie  work  of  regenera- 
tion will  begin  and  go  on  to  a  rapid  consummation. 
Ihit  thus  far  these  ])raclical  leaders  have  not  arisen. 
It  is  to  l)f  feared  that  the  strength  of  monarchy  in 
INtrtngal  consists  in  the  indifference  of  the  jieople, 
whieh  no  .'ippi-ai  of  le;iders  c.in  ri'inove,  i'opul:ir  edn- 
cution  tli(.i<.'  s<-<.iiis  not  to  have  iuspiriil  popidar  free- 
dom. I{ra/,il  is  now  removed  beyond  the  range  of 
influence,  and  her  future  no  longer  ccMitrols  the  future 
of  Portugal  ;  and  Brazil  will  not  reti'.rn  to  the  Bragan/a 
rule — she  has  got  fir  beyond  that."  "  But  then,"  said 
Cluster,  "I  could  not  help  thinking,  as  I  listened  to 
Castelar,  that  it  was  better  never  to  have  secured  a 
republican  form  of  government  than  to  have  lost  it 
wheti  once  gained.  1  hanlly  dared  to  suggest  this, 
however,  to  Castelar." 

It  was  on  account  of  this  intcn'iew  with  Castelar  at 
this  most  iiitercsting  period  of  Portuguese  history  that 
Chester  had  come  to  learn  what  he  could  about  Lisbon, 
lie  was  not  nnich  of  a  politician,  but  he  had  devoted 
himself  and  all  he  had  as  a  citi/.en  to  the  cause  of  his 
country  in  the  Civil  War,  and  this  experience  has  pro- 
dmed  in  his  mind  a  <!i(.j)  interest  in  natif)nal  affairs. 
Besides,  he  found  no  difhi  ulty  in  fnuling  records  of  the 
social  ;ind  civil  hf'e  of  abnost  every  cnnnntniity  fn^ni 
New  \'i>\k  to  Corea,  along  every  ]);irallel  of  latitude  and 
ui):uid  down  every  meridian  of  longitude  ;  and  a  reason- 
able recc>r<l  of  Lisbon,  with  its  fine  harbor,  and  its  ])ictu- 
resque  location,  and  its  curi(;us  mixture  of  importance 
and  prominence  and  seclusif^n.  Chester  is  sociably  in- 
clined, and  manages  to  become  part  of  every  s<x'ial  organ- 
ization with  which  hecomesin  contact.  At  dinner-parties 


LISBON.  243 

lie  is  the  life  of  the  table,  is  always  welcome,  and  makes 
his  seat  at  the  feast  tlie  centre  of  great  wit  and  genialty. 
A  rcccjition  at  whicli  he  is  })rcsent  is  never  kncnvn  to 
\)c  (hill.  An  afternoon  call  of  his  is  an  event  from 
wliich  a  family  can  date  a  new  era.  and  an  cvein'ng 
spent  by  him  at  tlie  fireside  is  not  forgolten  nnlil  he 
};i\'es  a  new  one  to  lake  its  place,  lie  makes  it  his  first 
hnsiness  to  l)eeoiue  intimate  with  llie  towti.  and  con- 
siders the  hospitality  <»f  the  people  to  be  the  fonndation 
of  all  its  intellectual  and  moral  and  reli>;i()ns  life.  Ob- 
serving a  community  at  arm's  length  he  considers  most 
unsatisfactory  business,  and  having  had  large  expe- 
rience in  all  the  great  cities  of  luirope  and  America,  he 
recpiires  no  guide  to  his  entrance  into  society  and  no 
leader  after  he  gets  there.  ICntcrtaimnents  of  this 
descrijition  have  so  long  formed  a  part  of  his  life  that 
he  seldom  alludes  to  them  as  matters  of  importance  in 
conversation,  and,  as  he  is  no  gossip,  he  seldom  gives 
an  account  of  what  is  said  or  done,  unless  he  happetis 
to  meet  some  ])erson  of  distinction,  whose  f)piuions  or 
experiences  are  valuable.  Chester  was  very  busy  during 
his  stay  in  Lisbon,  and,  as  I  heard  nothing  to  the  cou- 
trary,  I  infer  his  time  was  divided  between  investigating 
the  eurious  and  thrilling  history  of  the  plaee,  visiting 
the  many  objects  of  interest,  and  atlinding  the  balls, 
routs,  assemblies,  and  dimiers,  with  which  every  ricl> 
and  ctUlivated  comnuniity  abounds,  and  which  consti- 
tute the  difference  between  the  fascinating  life  of  the 
town  and  the  dull  monotony  of  a  country  village. 
Once  or  twice  I  think  lie  alluded  to  the  brilliant  con- 
versation of  souie  beautiful  and  accomjilished  young 
woman  whose  knowledge  of  literature  and  art  had 
astonished   him,   and   of    the   costly  jewels    of    some 


244  A  YHAR  IN  ffiKTLGAL. 

dowagcT  whose  ancestors  had  entered  early  ujxjti  the 
diaiiKJiul  nuncs  of  Golconda  or  th.c  emerald  riches  of 
Brazil.  As  he  fonned  very  definite  opinions  on  the 
African  tjuestion,  and  expres^ed  on  one  occasion  great 
adniir.'.tion  for  Ser])a  Pinto,  I  snjipose  he  met  occasion- 
ally S'>nie  minister  of  stale  (;r  jjcrhnps  a  member  of  the 
Geograj)hic:d  Society,  and  became  familiar  with  the 
best  o])inion  of  Lisbon  on  this  disputed  matter.  He 
seemed  to  have  learned  the  exact  Ixmndary  lines  which 
enclose,  the  territory  along  the  Zambezi,  the  Shira,  and 
in  Massononoland,  which  i'(irtu;<al  discovered  and  occu- 
pied long  bcf(jre  the  British  flag  floated  in  South  Africa 
or  a  British  keel  divided  the  waters  of  the  Indian  Ocean. 
Into  the  sources  of  hi>  knowledge  I  ne\er  in([uired,  my 
own  time  being  chiefly  o<vui)ied  in  securing  the  rights 
of  yVmerican  citizens  in  the  Delagoa  Bay  Railroad.  I 
never  met  any  one  else  who  knew  so  much  about  Li^bon 
.v^ciety,  or  who  fouiid  so  many  intimate  friends  in  this 
city  in  so  slioil  a  ■^jkicc  of  time. 

The  s'xial  charms  of  the  place,  howcNcr,  did  not 
draw  Clie.tcr  away  fronj  the  object  he  IkhI  in  view 
when  he  cam'-  to  Lisbon,  in  addition  to  tlw  pleasure  of 
U)'-'  ting  an  oM  fiiin']  a  pi'  asnre  wlii'h  he  always 
counted   siiptiior  to  all   ollu-is. 

To  learn  the  intent  and  meaning  <jf  any  place  one  must 
commence,  Chester  thinks,  with  its  history  and  origin. 
15ul  IJsbon.  I  suggested,  seems  never  to  ha\'e  had  a 
beginning.  If  it  had  been  founded  on  the  hunting- 
gromids  of  an  exterminated  Indian  tribe  there  might 
be  some  hope  for  its  antiquarian  ex])lorer.  If  it  coidd 
be  tra'  ed  into  the  regions  of  fable— that  would  hold  <nit 
.some  hojie.  lint  to  Ix:  told  that  Lisbon  was  founded  by 
the   great-grandson  of  Noah,  or  by  I'lysses  after  the 


ANTIQUITY.  24  S 

destruction  of  Troy,  is  quite  discouraging,  considering 

the  cloud   of  mystery  which  hangs  over   Noah   and 
Ulysses    themselves.       We    must    content    ourselves, 
therefore,  with   th.e   subjugation  of  Portugal  ])y  Car- 
thage under  the  lead  of  Hainiiljal  as  the  beginning  of 
the   active   existence   of    Lisbon.      That    I^isbon    was 
attractive  from   the  very  outset  is  easily  understood. 
Its  harbor  is  by  far  the  best  on   the  entire  coast  of 
I'Airope    from   the  Clyde    to   the  Adriatic.     To  every 
storm-tossed    mariner   skirling   the   coast  in  his  little 
ancient   shallop,  the   month    of  the   Tagus   offered   a 
refuge,  and  the  wide  bay  into  which  he  floated  as  he 
reached  the  site  of  a  fnture  city  gave  a  haven  of  rest 
and  safety.     The  l>eauty  of  the  scene,  too.  was  unsur- 
passed.    The  hills  on  which  the  town  now  rests  .swept 
their  curves  along  a  sky  of  singular  radiance,  and  were 
clothed  with  perennial  forests  and  adorned  with  great 
clusters  of  the  rose  and  the  myrtle.     The  fame  of  all 
this  natnral  charm  reached  the  remotest  regions  occu- 
pied  by  man — and  Roman,  Oolh,  Vandal,  and   M<Kjr 
struggled  ailernalely  f<>r  the  great  possession.    There  is 
nothing  in  all  history  more  weird  and  oppressive  than 
the  wild  and  sweeping  cf^Uests  which  raged  over  this 
l.-iiid,  from  the  earliest  periods  of  the  Chiislian  era  to 
the    Peninsular   wars  of  Napoleon.     Here  the  Moors 
secured  their  power  in  the  early  part  of  the  eighth  cen- 
tury, and  for  more  than  three  hundred  years  held  their 
gloomy   sway  over    Lisbon.      Here  the  great   Alfonso 
Henri(iues   swept   on  with  his  victorious  forces  from 
Ouricpie  to  Lisb(jn,  through  a  career  of  slaughter  and 
siege  and  fimine  and  h(*rror  and  victory.     Here  Don 
Juan,  King  of  Castile,  besieged  the  city  and  furnished 
another  ciiapler  of  "man's  inhumanity  to  man,"  and 


246  A  YliAK  IN  PORTUGAF,. 

of  wliat  is  called  valor  and  courage.  Here  in  1580  the 
city  WPS  taken  by  Philip  I.  and  the  Cf)nspiracy  against 
vSi)anish  dominion  broke  out,  ending  in  seating  the 
Braganza  family  on  the  Portuguese  throne.  Here  the 
Prior  of  Crato,  who  had  been  declared  king  on  the 
death  of  Cardinal  Doni  Henri([ne,  fought  his  fatal 
battle  with  Alba,  and  Lisbon  was  delivered  over  to 
Spanish  atrocities.  Here  in  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century  the  great  earthquake  swept  away 
the  town,  and  Pond)al  defied  the  destructive  power  of 
nature  and  outraged  the  rights  of  man.  Here  the 
armies  of  Napoleon  committed  their  ra\-ages  and  Wel- 
lington dis]ila\ed  his  genius.  Here  the  Miguelites 
exercised  their  cruelty,  and  here  this  long  period  o( 
strife-  and  blood  terminaled  in  the  accession  of  the 
pr(.sent  royal  family  to  the  throne.  To  recount  the 
personal  suffering  of  all  this  period,  the  tortures  and 
nuirders,  the  destruction  of  life  by  disease  and  starva- 
tion, would  be  merely  to  tell  a  tale  which  belongs  to 
the  saviigery  of  war.  It  is  only  especially  noticeable 
because  it  constitutes  the  career  of  I.isbon.  During 
this  C(Mistant  struggle  the  vast  colonial  possessions  of 
Portugal  had  been  secured  in  India  and  vSouth  America, 
the  wealth  of  the  world  had  been  ]>oured  into  her  cof- 
fers, the  names  of  John  de  Castro  and  \'asco  de  Oama 
had  been  enrolled  among  the  great  of  the  earth,  and 
Portugal  had  achieved  an  earthly  jwjwer  unecpialled  in 
her  day  and  had  built  an  empire  on  the  sand.  Of  her 
philoso])liy  and  art  and  literature  and  cidture  the  names 
of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua  and  Luis  de  Camoens  and 
Padre  Vieira  and  Pope  John  XXL  almost  alone  re- 
main, with  her  nioiunnental  churches  and  despoiled 
monasteries,  to  bear  witness  to  her  genius  and  devotion. 


ANTIQUITY.  247 

The  early  conversion  of  Lisbon  to  Christianity  gave 
it  an  important  position  iti  the  chnrch,  and  its  ecclesi- 
astics have  always  held  an  intimate  relation  with  Rome. 
To  its  relief  came  a  great  body  of  Crusaders  who,  in 
1 147,  paused  on  their  way  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre  to  aid 
AfTonso  Ilenriques  in  expelling  the  Moors.  In  1394  it 
was  raised  to  the  rank  of  an  Archbishopric  and  became 
the  capital  of  the  kingdom.  At  the  Castilian  usurpa- 
tion in  1580  it  was  reduced  to  the  rank  of  a  ])r()vincial 
city,  and  was  only  r^stc^rcd  by  Dom  John  \'.,  who 
adonied  it  with  many  of  its  fnusl  public  buildings, 
many  of  which  were  destroyed  by  the  great  eartluiuakc 
of  1755,  whose  marks  remain  to  this  day. 

The  i^olitical  career  of  Lisbon  has  bec!i  interesting 
and  perhaps  important.  Tlie  seat  of  a  great  empire 
one  day,  a  dependency  the  next,  the  stronghold  of  an 
usurper  at  one  time  and  the  loyal  home  of  a  royal  family 
at  another,  it  has  passed  from  one  era  to  another  with- 
out exerting  a  controlling  iulluence  on  the  kingdom. 
In  ])olitical  agitation  and  progress  Oporto  has  always 
been  its  rival.  And  its  political  distinction  has  been 
gained  mainly  as  the  home  of  c()ntending  rivals  for 
power. 

The  view  out  from  Lisbon  is  nuicli  finer  than  the 
view  from  the  river  into  it.  While  it  is  a  strong 
well-built  town,  the  absence  of  towers  and  cupolas  and 
minarets  injures  greatly  its  general  effect.  vStanding  on 
any  one  of  its  hill-toj^s  and  looking  over  the  wide  river 
to  the  mountains  beyond,  you  are  impressed  with  the 
rare  beauty  o[  the  scenery.  The  architectural  taste  of 
the  buildings  is  manifest  in  their  interior,  while  their 
exterior  is  chiefly  markeil  by  strength  antf  solidity. 
Of  course  the  city  abounils  in  churches,  as  does  every 


2 IS  A  YliAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

Catholic  couiitn-  ;  hut  \vheii  one  has  carefully  studied 
the  Church  and  Convent  of  St.  Jerome  at  Beleni,  the 
real  beauty  of  Church  architecture  in  Lisbon  is  ex- 
hausted. After  Burgos  and  Seville  and  the  Alhambra 
the  cluster  of  churches  in  Lisbon  ajipears  somewhat 
connnonplace ;  and  among  the  two  hundred  ])laces 
of  worship  in  the  cai)ital  the  ICstrella  and  the  .San 
Roxiua — with  the  remains  of  tl'.e  Carmo  left  by  the 
earth([uake — are  the  most  interesting. 

Of  the  churcli  at  Ik'lem  I  have  already  .said  enough 
an<l  I  can  do  no  better  than  give  Chester's  account  of 
the  structures  which  attracted  his  attention  chiefly. 
Tinc  IJasii.ica  do  C<)K.\i;\o  di:  Ji:srs,  commonly  called 
the  J-'strella,  situated  on  the  high  ground  which  forms 
that  i)art  '»f  Lisbon  named  Ikienos  A\res,  was  to  his 
mind  and  is  to  mine  the  most  satisfactory  and  attractive 
of  all  the  ecclesiastical  structures  in  the  city.  It  is  situ- 
ated in  a  wide  (/pen  ])la/a  on  a  most  cousjjicuous  point 
and  commands  a  charming  view  of  the  city  and  .sur- 
rounding country.  It  has  the  onh'  fine  dome  to  be 
seen  and  attracts  the  attention  of  all  who  a])]>roach  the 
town — a  dome  of  great  merit. 

The  church  owes  its  origin  to  a  vow  made  by  I)(^na 
Maria  I.  for  the  birth  of  an  heir  to  the  throne,  in  ful- 
fdment  of  which  it  was  Imilt,  being  commenced  in 
1779  and  completed  in  1790.  The  architecture  is  in 
imitation  of  the  famous  convent  at  Mafra,  especially 
the  dome  and  the  two  towers.  The  four  colo.ssal  fig- 
ures on  the  ]K'rist\le  rei)iesent  faith,  adoration,  liberal- 
ity, and  gratitude,  qualities  .so  conspicuous  in  the 
royal  foundress.  The  inuiges  in  the  niches  are  Jst. 
Theresa,  St.  IClias,  and  St.  Mary  Magdalene  de  Paz/.i. 
The  tv.o  statues  in  the  vestibule  are  our  I'lessed   Lady 


AKCHITCCTURn.  249 

and  vSt.  Joseph.  In  the  sanctuary  are  two  seraphs 
beautifully  executed,  and  on  the  epistle  is  the  mauso- 
leum of  Dona  Maria  I.,  whose  remains  were  brought 
hither  from  Rio  de  Janein),  where  she  died  in  1H16. 
It  has  been  said  by  critics  that  some  portions  of  this 
church  are  over-ornamented,  but  the  interior  is  of 
conunanding  height,  tlie  chapel  is  most  in\p(»sing,  and 
the  coloring  and  gilding  in  strong  contrast  to  the  gen- 
erally cold  and  colorless  fniish  of  most  of  the  Lisbon 
churches.  The  effect  of  the  Ivstrella  is  so  fme  that  it 
is  easy  to  imagine  yoinsclf  in  a  much  more  elaborate 
order  of  architecture  tlian  belongs  to  Portugal.  Great 
genius  was  manifested  by  the  architects  and  artists 
engaged  in  the  erection  and  adonnnent  of  the  structure. 
vSan  Rooui;,  which  was  most  carefully  studied  by 
Chester,  was  formerly  in  the  hands  of  the  Jesuits  to 
whom  it  was  given  by  Kingjolui  III.  in  1533.  I'rom 
its  i)ulpit  once  preached  vSt.  hVancis  Horjia,  and  his 
cloak,  darned  by. himself  with  white  thread,  is  ])re- 
ser\ed  as  a  relic.  What  good  pictures  there  are  in 
Lisbon  are  found  mainly  in  this  church,  whicii  was 
built  by  John  V.  with  the  treasures  brought  from  the 
Bra/.ils,  anrl  who  lavished  great  sums  on  the  chapel  of 
St.  John  the  Haptist,  which  on  accovnit  of  the  name  he 
took  luider  his  special  care. 

Dimensions  of  the  chapel  were  sent  to  Rome  with 
instructions  to  the  Portuguese  ambassador  to  have  a 
chapel  made  of  the  richest  materi.il  and  fmest  work- 
manship, regardless  of  expense.  The  chapel  was  con- 
secrated by  pope  Benedict  XIV.,  who  received  for  this 
favor  from  the  King  a  proent  of  /"lo.ot^). 

The  construction  of  the  chapel  is  most  gorgeous. 
Tl'.e  exterior  of  the  arch  is  of  coral,  with  the  royal 


250  A  YI:AR  IN  I'DI/TUf^AL. 

arms  of  Portugal  on  the  keystone  supported  by  two 
ala1>aster  angels.  The  interior  of  the  arch  is  of  ala- 
ba>ter.  A  balustrade  of  vcrd-antique  divides  the  chapel 
from  the  body  of  the  church,  the  entrance  U)  it  being  by 
two  side-doors  of  bron/.e  delicately  worked,  with  jambs 
and  lintels  of  verd-antique.  The  walls  are  of  black 
marble,  jald-anti(iue,  and  alabaster,  with  pilasters  of 
jal(l-anti([ue.  Over  the  doors  are  two  mosaics  set  in 
porphyry  frames.  The  cornice  is  of  jald-antiquc  re- 
lieved with  bron/.e.  The  vaulted  roof  is  of  the  same 
stone  and  verd-antique  ornamented  with  jasper.  Over 
the  altar  is  a  large  mosaic  with  porphyry  frame,  repre- 
.senling  the  bajjtism  of  Christ  in  the  Jordan,  In  this 
mosaic  are  a  figure  of  th.e  ICternal  I'ather,  grou]5S  of 
angels,  the  <]o\e  (ksreiiding,  and  fignies  <if  the  two 
Marys,  'I'lie  mosaic  <>u  the  gospel  si<le  represents 
the  descent  of  the  Ib^ly  Oho>t  <;n  the  Apostles  and  the 
Blessed  Virgin  ;  that  ojjposite  is  the  Anniuiciati(Mi. 
These  mosaics  are  the  first  works  of  their  class  in 
ICnrope,  and  are  so  well  executed  that  m.any  incredu- 
lous visitors  refuse  to  believe  they  are  otlier  than  oil- 
paintings  until  they  have  carefully  examined  them  by 
the  touch. 

On  either  side  of  the  princi])al  mosaics  are  cohunns 
of  lapis-la/.uli,  with  bron/.e  ca.pitals  ;  the  wall  at  the 
back  of  tin;  columns  is  of  alabaster  and  amethysts  ;  the 
architecture  is  of  jald,  and  the  figures  of  the  angels  are 
of  jasper.  The  si)ace  between  the  altar  and  the  mosa- 
ics is  filled  with  coral,  amethysts,  and  lapis-lazuli. 
The  floor  is  a  marble  mosaic  iidaid  with  porphyry 
imitating  a  richly  Howcred  carpet  with  a  globe  in  the 
centre.  These  inosaics  weie  made  in  the  Vatican 
tnanufactory,   and    an-    co[!i<'i  of  piitiires  by    Mii-hael 


ARCHITECTURE.  251 

Angclo,  Guido    Reni,  and  Raphael,     The  cost  of  this 
superb  slniclure  was  more  than  ;[^2oo,ooo. 

But  the  fascinating  church  in  Lisbon  is  the  IgrEJA 
K  CoNVKNTo  DO  Cakmo — the  mined  Carmo — the  great 
edifice  stricken  by  the  earthquake  nearly  a  centur>-  and 
a  half  ago.  and  standing  there  witliout  roof  and  with 
broken  arches  and  coluuuis,  so  grand  in  its  decay  that 
the  imagination  exhausts  itself  in  the  work  of  replac- 
ing the  vanished  beauty  to  accord  with  what  remains. 
The  Carmo  was  bviilt  in  t)ie  latter  part  of  tlic  fourteenth 
and  the  early  part  of  the  fifteenth  centuries,  to  com- 
memorate the  great  victory  of  Aljubarrota.  It  was 
founded  by  the  I/)rd  High  Constable  Pereira,  the  com- 
mander of  llif  Portuguese  on  that  field,  and  was  erected 
at  his  expense.  It  was  dedicated  to  the  Carmelite 
nnMiks,  and  in  its  pe.uefnl  cloisters  the  great  captain 
])assed  the  close  of  his  life  in  religions  seclusion.  In  all 
its  design  and  association  Carmo  is  the  most  impressive 
structure  I  have  yet  seen;  as  a  ruin  its  grandeur  is 
unsurpassed  ;  as  a  collection  of  broken  architectural 
beauty  it  is  (juite  unequalled. 

When  it  was  demolished  by  the  earthquake  its  roof, 
which  stretched  over  an  enorm;viis  nave  i6o  feet  in 
length,  fell  upon  the  hundreds  of  devotees  who  had 
gathered  there  on  the  morning  of  All  Saints'  day, 
and  not  one  escaped.  As  you  traverse  the  floor, 
from  which  the  accumulation  of  broken  marbles  has 
at  last  been  removed,  you  .see  high  above  you  the 
lofty  arch  of  the  sanctuary  still  remaining,  and  the 
displaced  ribs  of  many  of  the  smaller  arches,  held  in 
position  by  their  perfect  constructiiMi.  which  even  that 
great  convulsion  could  not  entirely  destroy.  The 
remaining  eobuinis  .and  capitals  are  models  of  beauty. 


252  A  YRAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

In  iuMition  lo  the  relics  which  Ihc  church  itself  has 
furnished,  the  sanctuary  and  collateral  chapels  have 
been  converted  into  a  most  interesting  museum  of  the 
Arclueological  Society — a  collection  of  antiques  from 
Greece  and  Rome — window-panes  and  doors  of  ancient 
convents,  rare  niarl^les  and  medallions.  Mafra  has 
furnished  a  beautiful  iron  railing  with  bronze  orna- 
ments. Models  of  the  Acrop(jlis,  the  Circus  Maxinius. 
and  other  classical  buildint^s,  as  well  as  of  the  tomb  of 
the  founder,  attract  as  much  attention  as  models  are 
entitled  to.  An  U])rii.;ht  fi;.^ure  in  nnnor  re])rcsenls 
Xuno  Ahara/  Pen.ira  as  Lord  High  Constable,  and  a 
recumbent  figure  represents  him  in  the  habit  of  a  Car- 
melite friar.  If  you  would  be  reminded  of  the  valor, 
and  fanaticism,  and  devotion,  and  ancient  power,  and 
tragic  cxjierience  of  Portugal,  study  the  church  and 
cotnent  of  Carmo — what  there  is  left  of  it. 

Of  the  rest  of  the  churches  in  Lisbon  there  is  little  to 
Ik-  said.  They  are  all  of  one  style,  and  dilTer  ouly  as 
"one  star  dilTereth  from  another  star  in  glory."  And 
here  I  lea\e  Chester  pondering  upon  the  irregular 
architecture  of  the  kingdom. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

LITERATURH.-SCULPTURH.-PALACKS— COACHHS. 
-POLITICS. 

April  <?///.— Having  studied  the  churches,   Chester 
turned  his  attention  to  the  Hterature  of  Lisbon.     Of 
course  he  was  first  attracted  by  Canioens,  the  poet  of 
I'ortu^^al,    whose  statue  towers  above   the  .sciuare  on 
which  it  stands — a  colossal  bronze  presentment  c)f  the 
once   abused  and   now  deified   author,  mounted  on  a 
lofty  marble  pedestal,  around  which  stand  statues  of 
Lopes  the  historian,  Pedro  Nunes  the  cosmoi,aapher, 
b'annes  de  A/urara,  Joao  dc  Barros,  Castatdieda   the 
hi-lorian,  and  Quevedo,  Jeronymo  Corte  Real,  and  de 
Menczes,  the  epic  ])oets  of  the  kingdom.     This  consti- 
tutes the  personnel  of  Portuguese  authorship,  and  this 
led  to  a  walk  through  the  libraries.     The  small  collec- 
tion of  old  volumes  taken  from  the  Jesuits  and  lodged 
in  the  Ajnda,  the  well-arraiv^ed  collection  of  religious 
works  in  the  Convento  de  Jesus,  and  the  librar>'  of  the 
Aeademv  of  Sciences  are  soon  examined  by  the  expert 
explorer.     The  National   Lii)rary,   however,  demands 
more  attention.      Here  are  gathered  nearly  three  hun- 
dred   thousand    vobnnes.    derived    mainly    from    the 
libraries  of  sui)pressed    monasteries,   and   constituting 
but  a  small  jKirl  of  the  spoils  tnken  from  those  literary 
tn  asnri'-hons(  s.     The  library  is  well  arrange<I  in  com- 
m<i<lions  rooms    -tlie  jjubbe  documents  of  the  rnilcd 

:Jf3 


254  A  VMAR  IN  i'nKTlGAL. 

vSlatcs  liart'ly  receiving  that  aUcntion  atul  care  to  which 
Clieslcr  Ihouglit  tlietJi  entitled.  Tlic  Jiianuscripts  are 
rare  and  l>eautiful — a  large  collection  numbering  fully 
ten  thousand,  and  including  three  hundred  of  the  Cis- 
tercian order  from  the  Convent  of  Alcoba^a,  one  of 
wliich  is  the  first  volume  of  a  Bible  taken  from  the 
S])aniards  at  the  battle  of  Aljubarrota  in  13S5,  and  said 
to  have  belonged  to  the  King  of  Castile,  whose  arms 
it  Inars.  Of  the  vlUim  maiuiscripts  are:  the  Old 
Testament  in  Hebrew  with  Rabbinic  annotations, 
T,alin  15ibks,  a  llnne  Healifiea.-  Mariie  of  the  fif- 
teenlli  c-eiitnry.  a  l'"onis  Judic  nin  of  the  foiuleenlh 
century,  several  illuminated  missals,  St.  Ambrose's 
Onk'inorum  libri  tres,  Koma  Triumphans  of  I'lavius 
lilondus  I'orliensis. — lo  which,  with  their  three 
Innidred  fellows,  a  separate  room  is  dedicated,  on  every 
side  of  which  the  veni-rable  and  ghostly  volumes  stand 
in  all  the  charms  of  vellum  and  anlicpiity. 

There  is  j)robably  no  rarer  collection  of  monkish 
literature  in  the  worhl.  The  lil)rary  also  contains  a 
valuable  collection  of  Ivnglish  works  on  Portugal. 

The  Cabinet  of  Coins  is  large  and  interesting,  being 
aljout  twentN-fi\e  thousand  in  number,  and  includin<r 
coins  of  Spain,  Celtiberia,  ancient  Greece,  Macedonia, 
Syr'a,  and  ]^gy])t.  Rome  from  Julius  Cicsar  to  Com- 
niodus.  and  medals  and  coinage  of  Portugal,  France, 
Italy,  Germany,  iCngland,  and  Russia.  Arranged  with 
them  are  Roman  bronze  statues,  lamps,  amphonc,  lach- 
rymatory vases,  and  African  implements  and  weapons. 
To  the  student  and  arch;e')logist  the  library  is  most  in- 
teresting. Chester  wandcri  <1  tlimu;;!!  its  alcoves  many 
da)'s,  onl\'  repining  over  the  abseiu-e  of  a  catalogue,  to 
which  he  thinkseverv  good  collection  of  books  entitled. 


STROHTS.  255 

It  was  towards  the  close  of  whiter  and  before  the 
spring  rains  had  commenced  that  Chester  came  to 
Lisbon,  and  the  clear,  cool,  and  lengthening  days  gave 
him  ample  opportunity  to  stroll  through  the  streets, 
whoso  hills,  bad  as  they  are,  were  not  enough  to  dis- 
courage such  an  experienced  pedestrian,  who  had 
already  e.\i)li)ri.d  on  foot  every  mountain  region  in 
Ivurope  and  many  of  the  most  famous  in  America.  He 
was  told  to  visit  the  A\eni(la  -tlie  widest  and  hand- 
somest street  in  IJsbon.— but  he  found  it  unfinished 
and  lined  on  either  hand  with  dwelHngs  of  somewhat 
ordinary  structure,  not  imposing  enough,  at  any  rate, 
to  stand  along  a  great  fashionable  highway.  He  was 
struck,  however,  with  the  narrowness  (jf  the  streets 
and  the  length  of  their  names,  among  which  he  found 
the  Rua  da  I'ort.i  do  Carro  do  Hospital  Real  de  »S.  Jose, 
Travessa  do  Abarraeamento  da  Cruz  do  Taboado,  T'ua 
de  vSanto  Antonio  da  Praya  do  Conventodo  Corayao  de 
Jesus,  It  is  encouraging  to  know,  however,  that  in 
ordinary  intercourse  these  names  are  abandoned  and 
short  ones  substituted,  of  which  there  is  no  record  either 
on  the  corners  of  the  streets  (tr  in  the  directory.  Now 
and  then  a  charming  garden  or  a  well-arranged  public 
square  relieves  the  weary  eye.  In  fact,  pretty  gardens 
abound  in  Lislxiu — the  great  charm  of  the  residence  of 
Sir  George  Glynn  Petre,  the  ICnglish  Minister,  being  an 
ample  garden  high  along  the  river-bank,  laid  out  by 
Lord  I^ytton  during  his  administration  as  Ambassador 
at  this  Coint.  Put  the  squares  are  worthy  of  a  great 
cits'  and  a  great  ])eopI<'.  The  Praya  do  Commercio,  on 
accoinit  of  its  material  and  historici!  importance,  is 
entitled  to  the  most  alteiilioa.  It  lies  .along  tlie  river, 
and  before  the  earth<iuake  it  was  the  Palace  Yard  ;  but 


230  A  Yr;AP  IN   I'ORTIKJAL. 

the  earthquake  changed  all  that,  the  palace  having 
been  swallowed  np.  It  is  now  known  among  the 
mariners  who  throng  its  hard  and  gravelly  surface  as 
"Black  Horse  vScpiare,"  after  an  equestrian  statue  of 
Doni  Jose  I.,  Which  stands  in  the  centre  overlooking 
the  swelling  tide.  This  statue,  which  some  admirer 
has  said  to  be  "  unsurpassed  by  any  other  in  Ivuropc," 
is  an  object  of  great  ruriosity.  The  horse  is  stout, 
thick,  (•hnnky,  hfavy-barrcilrcl,  and  long-backed,  with 
an  excess  of  crest  and  a  heavy  head,  an  immense  quarter 
with  a  huge  tail  clinging  closely  and  meeting  theground, 
and  so  jnit  together  that  as  it  appeared  to  Chester  for 
speed  on  tlie  road  he  would  be  useless  and  for  draught 
incapable.  The  kin;;  is  loaded  with  garments,  and 
crowned  with  a  hat  wliich  is  a  great  cluster  of  ])lumes. 
I'.y  the  side  of  the  hcjrse  on  the  lofty  pedest.il  stands  a 
cub  elephant — called  a  cub  to  e.KCUse  his  being  placed 
there  at  all  when  his  full  si/.e  would  have  dwarfed 
even  the  hor.se  Chester  described.  Victory  and  I'ame 
flank  the  e(}uestrian  statue,  which  stands  twenty-one 
feet  high  and  weighs  eit^hty  thousand  si.K  hiuidred 
and  forty  ])Ounds.  On  the  front  of  the  jjcdeslal  is  a 
medallion  with  the  efligy  f)f  Pombal,  who  restored 
the  city  after  the  eartlKpiake  and  left  a  chasm  in 
Portuguese  morals  vastl)'  more  awful  than  that  which 
the  great  convulsion  of  nature  left  in  the  hills  and 
valleys  of  llu  town. 

(Jn  each  si<le  of  the  square  are  long  rows  of  arched 
cloislejs  within  which  are  the  pidjlicolhces  of  slate,  and 
at  the  head  and  on  the  north  side  of  the  square  stands 
the  Aiiodfemo  Augusto,  a  work  wliich  was  more  than 
a  century  in  construction.  It  is  a  triumphal  arch, 
with  windows  on  one  side  and  a  clock  on  the  other, 


SCULPTURE.  2S7 

surmounted  by  an  euornious  pile  a  hundred  feet  high 
from  the  crown  of  the  arch  to  the  top  of  the  cornice.  On 
the  face  of  this  are  the  arms  of  Portugah  The  allegor- 
ical group  at  the  top  of  this  huge  entablature  is  Glory 
rewarding  Valor  and  Genius — Glory  being  a  draped 
female  figure,  Valor  an  Amazon  partially  covered  with 
an  ancient  Greek  military  dress,  and  Genius  a  nude 
figure  of  a  yonth  with  wings  partially  spread.  Letters 
and  Arts  are  also  represented,  and  the  Lyre  signifies 
that  Harmony  should  i)rcside  over  the  products  of 
Intelligence.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  this  arch,  hut  it 
must  be  confessed  it  forms  a  striking  contrast  with 
those  structures  which  stand  about  the  Roman  Forum 
to  commemorate  the  victories  of  Trajan  and  Antoninus, 
and  vSeptimius  vSeverus,  and  Constantine  and  Titus. 

The  statues  over  the  columns  of  this  great  arch  are 
of  four  national  heroes  and  are  due  to  the  chisel  of  the 
Portuguese  .sculptor,  Victor  Hastos,  who  has  executed 
his  work  with  great  taste  and  skill,  as  he  also  has  his 
recumbent  figures  representing  the  rivers  Tagus  and 
Douro  ;  and  those  of  Ponibal,  of  whom  I  have 
already  expressed  an  opinion,  of  \'asco  de  ( lama,  and  of 
Variatus,  who  exchanged  the  duties  of  a  peaceful 
pastor  to  those  of  a  great  warrior,  and  was  only  de- 
feated by  the  betrayal  and  treachery  of  two  of  his 
ambassadors — not  ;in  unusual  e\ent  in  PortU);uesc 
history, — and  of  Xuno  Alvaiez  Pereira. 

Of  the  other  s(|nares,  the  Kosio  is  distinguished  for 
its  elaborate  monument  in  memory  of  Dom  Pedro  IV.  ; 
the  Largo  de  San  Rocpie,  near  the  church  of  that  name, 
containing  a  monument  erected  by  Italians  to  com- 
memorate the  mnrriagc  of  Dom  I^uis  with  Dona  Maria 
Pia,  tlie  daughter  of  Victor  h'manuel  ;  the  Largo  de 
"7 


255>  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

Belcin,  famous,  as  has  been  well  said,  "as  having 
bc'cii  the  sjK>t  where  the  Duke  of  Aveiro,  Marquis  and 
Marchioness  of  Tavora,  Count  Atoguia,  along  with 
several  other  members  of  the  Portuguese  aristocracy, 
were  executed  in  the  most  ignominious  and  cruel  man- 
ner on  the  13th  of  January,  1759,  having  been  falsely 
accused  and  found  guilty  of  particijjation  in  the  ])seud{)- 
conspiracy  against  llie  King's  life  ingeniously  contrived 
by  the  Martinis  of  ronibal,''  and  ten  or  a  dozen  S(niares 
of  smalk-r  i)r()])orlions  and  less  iniixirtance.  These 
S(iu;ires,  togcllK-r  with  the  j)ublic  walks  and  the  garden 
of  the  ICslrelhi,  the  ]',o'..'mical,  and  the  Zo(>logieal  (har- 
den for  whi<  h  the  exI\n:i)eror  Doni  I'edro  had  a  great 
affection,  and  which  contains  one  immense  lion,  many 
monkeys,  a  huge  dog  kennel  and  an  extensive  poultry 
yard,  afford  great  pleasure  and  are  very  conducive  to 
the  health  of  the  people. 

Of  the  palaces  contained  within  the  limits  of  Lis- 
bon, even  Chester's  elaborate  notes  furni.sh  no  further 
information  than  has  already  been  given  in  accounts 
of  public  ceremonies  which  have  taken  place  within 
the  last  year.  Of  the  anuisements,  the  world  knows 
that  the  Opera  of  Lisbon  ranks  among  the  best 
in  I-'uropc.  And  fif  the  ])ieture  galleries,  the  lovers 
of  art  in  Lislxm  bear  witness  that,  "  although  for- 
eign artists  are  represented  in  the  Nationrd  (iallery 
by  the  brilliant  names  of  Michael  Angelo,  Caracci, 
Carlo  Dolei,  Guido,  Murillo,  Ra])hael,  and  Rubens, 
yet  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  works  are  inferior 
specimens  and  n(jt  to  be  compared  with  the  clufs 
d'a-Hvre  of  these  renowned  artists."  It  does  not  ap- 
pear that  art  students  resort  to  the  galleries  of  Lisbon, 
In  the  nuiseums,  however,  the  student  will  find  admira- 


PALACES.  aS9 

ble  collections  for  the  study  of  niineralog>',  the  cr>'stals 
and  minerals  of  Portugal,  and  of  Russia,  Vesuvius,  and 
Brazil,  together  with  large  palcontological  and  zoologi- 
cal collections.  A  collection  of  products  of  the  colo- 
nics in  the  rooms  of  tlie  Geographical  Society  is  well 
worthy  a  careful  examination. 

lyisbon  provides  li]>erally  for  the  education  of  her 
]>eo])le  in  polytechnic,  medical,  ])l»armaceutical,  agri- 
cultural, naval,  literary,  industrial,  and  commercial 
iiistilulions,  and  a  good  system  of  common  schools. 
Of  course  lu)si)itals,  law  courts,  and  markets  abound. 
Cemeteries  are  of  the  usual  number,  including  the 
Val  ^■^curo  for  animals.  The  arrangements  for  fuiier- 
als  are  somewhat  extraordinary.  The  coflins  re- 
semble huge  trunks,  having  a  convex  lid  fixed  on 
hinges  and  fitted  with  a  lock  and  key.  On  reaching 
the  cemetery  the  lid  is  raised,  a  little  (luicklime  is 
thrown  on  the  face,  after  which  the  colTui  is  locked  and 
the  key  given  to  the  chief  mourner.  The  coaches  in 
which  the  priests  accompany  the  corft'i^'-c  are  called  der- 
li)tdas,  and  are  interesting  specimens  of  the  Portuguese 
vehicles  of  the  last  century.  They  are  on  two  wheels, 
and  have  a  large  gilded  chaise  top  body  for  the  acconnno- 
dation  of  the  priests,  while  the  cofiin  is  borne  on  an  iron, 
frame  fixed  across  the  shafts  mar  the  whifiletree. 
Chester  endeavored  in  vain  to  gel  a  pliotograj)h  of 
one  of  these  establishments,  no  artist  being  found  who 
was  inclined  to  take  one. 

Chester  l)ecame  nuich  interested  in  the  coaches. 
The  universal  ronpc  and  Victoria  and  Landau  can  be 
foiuid  in  all  the  streets  and  stables,  with  a  few  dog- 
carts and  I)each-wagons  ;  bvit  no  light  wagons,  no 
buggies,  no  top-wagons  .so  called  in  New  York.     Light 


260  A  VHAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

drivitipf  is  unknown.  The  American  trotting  horse  is 
not  found,  and  of  course  the  American  trotting  wagon 
is  never  seen. 

I'ul  of  one  cla>s  of  coaclies  Ijsl)on  appears  to  have  fi 
monopoly.  The  royal  coaclies  are  to  I)e  seen  in  the 
coach  house  near  the  palace  of  I'elem.  This  collection 
comprises  many  curious  specimens  of  the  coach  build- 
er's art,  e>pecially  during  the  reign  of  Dom  John  V., 
who  was  extravagantly  fond  of  ostentatious  displays. 
On  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  his  son.  Prince  of 
the  Brazils,  with  an  Infanta  of  vSj^ain,  the  royal  family 
went  in  pi'ocession  from  Ivlvas  to  the  frontier  to  meet 
tlie  Spanish  Coint.  This  coiici^c  consisted  of  49  royal 
Coaches  drawn  hy  .^54  l:<jrses,  150  royal  carriages  drawn 
by  468  horses  and  mules,  673  saddle-horses  with  velvet 
saddle-cloths  embroidered  with  gold,  and  316  mules, 
besides  an  immeuNe  number  of  carriages  and  horses  be- 
longing to  the  retinues  of  the  nobles  and  other  persons 
who  accompanied  their  majesties. 

The  num))er  of  coaches  ])ossessed  by  the  Crown  has 
been  greatl)'  reduc<-d  ;  the  earthqu.ake  of  17,1^5  fieslroyed 
many  ;  upwards  of  fifty  were  taken  t<j  the  IJra/.ils  by 
the  royal  family,  and  many  in  a  dilapidated  (•(;nditioti 
were  sohl  during  the  reign  of  Dona  Maria  II.  Never- 
theless thirty-nine  still  femain  in  the  roj'al  court  house. 
Amongst  this  inunber  the  most  notable  are  :  — 

A  coach  brcnight  by  f,)ueen  Maria  Inancisca  from 
I'VruKe,  a  ])resent  from  Louis  XI^^,  richly  carved  and 
gilded,  with  a  painting  on  the  back  representing  her 
Majesty  seated  on  the  throne — a  very  good  jKirtrait. 

Three  chariots  which  served  at  the  marriage  of  Dom 
John  \'.  with  Dona  Maria  Ainia  of  Austria  in  1708, 
Also  one  presented  to  King  John  V.  by  his  Holiness 


COACHES.  26t 

Clement  XI.,  and  one  presented  to  Dona  Maria  Anna 
of  Austria  by  the  liinperor  Francis  Joseph  I. 

Three  coaches  used  at  the  marriage  of  the  Pritice  of 
the  IJra/.ils,  son  of  Kin^  John  V.  %vith  the  Ijifanta  of 
Spain,  Doinia  Mariauna  Victoria. 

An  inunense  unwieldy,  cuinbersonie  octagonal  trav- 
elling carriage  with  a  table  in  the  centre  used  by  Dom 
John  V. 

Several  coaches  brought  by  the  Philips  from  Spain, 
and  .some  of  which  belonged  to  John  IV.,  AfTonso  VI., 
and  Pedro  II. 

Two  modern  travelling  carriages  made  in  ICngland 
for  (^ueen  Maria  I. 

These  state  coaches  appeared  on  all  royal  occasions, 
and  with  a  young  king  and  a  pretty  queen,  sitting  in 
their  amplitude  of  gilt  and  satin,  present  a  most  gor- 
geous ap{)earauce. 

Chester  had  been  .so  entirely  occupied  with  the 
material  condition  of  Portugal  and  its  varying  for- 
tunes that  he  had  forgotteii  the  value  of  intellectual 
culture  and  power  in  the  work  of  creating  and  i)re- 
serving  a  n.ation.  He  liad  seen  so  many  monument.s 
erected  in  memory  of  kings  and  warriors  and  e.\j)lorers, 
so  many  churches  built  in  commemoration  of  great 
deeds  of  cluucli  and  state,  in  honor  of  saints  and 
martyrs,  in  gratitude  to  (iod  for  victories  and  con- 
quests and  heirs  to  the  throne,  that  he  for;.;ot  the 
mental  achievements  which  arc  llie  boast  of  every 
people  truly  great.  lie  could  not  lose  sight  of  Camoens 
— U)Y  his  motunnent  overtoi)ped  the  city.  He  had  not 
forgotten  tlie  theological  disquisitions  of  Anthony  and 
Bartholomew  and  Pedro  Negles  and  Andr6  d'Almada, 
and  Guzman  and  Hernardes  ;  or  the  oratory  of  X'ieira 


262  A  VHAK  IN  PCRTUGAL. 

and  Timothco  dc  Ccabra  ;  or  Uic  poetry  of  dc  Mello  and 
Antotiio  I'crreira  and  IJocaiL^c  and  Manoc-1  dc  San  Jose  ; 
or  the  historical  works  of  Vcigas  and  Tclleo  and  Ber- 
nardino dc  Silva  and  I)iej;o  <le  Conto.  ]5nt  tlic  tlicol- 
ogy  was  rather  ont  of  date,  the  orators  were  not  fitted  to 
the  present  occasion,  the  histories  were  so  niucli  of  the 
past  that  those  cnga<;cd  in  the  affairs  of  the  present 
sckloni  alhided  to  them.  Tiic  restoration  of  Portngal 
means  not  the  revival  of  letters,  or  the  application  of 
profound  systems  of  state  and  society,  or  the  culti- 
vation of  an  old  philosophy,  or  the  perfection  of  a  long 
sought  system  of  govennnent,  or  devotion  to  a  great 
popular  declaration,  but  a  return  to  the  golden  days 
when  the  fabulous  we.dth  of  Ornui/.  and  the  Ind  was 
poured  into  the  coffers  of  the  extravagant  and  the  ambi- 
tious. In  such  a  struggle  aesthetic  books  were  of  small 
importance ;  theories  were  a  delusion  and  a  snare ; 
science  was  quite  unnecessary  ;  and  popular  education 
and  technology  fidfd  all  the  requirements.  In  a  coni- 
nnmity  like  this  b<>ok-worms  arc  not  abundant,  philo- 
sophical societies  are .  not  common,  transcendental 
discussions  are  rare,  lyceum  lectures  have  no  attrac- 
tions, Browning  clubs  do  not  fl<niri>h,  the  inventive 
genius  is  luiheard  of,  the .  poet  does  not  soar,  the 
j)o])ular  (jrator  is  seldom  heard.  The  genius  of  the 
fathers  did  not  run  in  this  <lir<,;ction, 

Chester  seemed  to  be  evolving  these  thoughts  as  he 
sat  before  my  fire  at  the  spacious  Ikagan/a  after  a  long 
day  of  c.xi)loration,  during  which  the  hills  seemed  to 
be  interminable  ami  the  valleys  vuifathomable.  lie 
was  getting  into  a  gloomy  view  and  he  was  evidently 
attempting  to  find  in  Portugal  a  Magna  Charta  and 
a  Cromwell,  or  a  Winkclried  and  a  William  Tell  and  a 


POLITICS.  263 

Morgartcn,  or  a  club  of  Eiicyclopcedists  and  Girondists, 
or  a  Mazzini  and  a  Garibaldi,  or  a  Washington  and 
a  Jefferson,  as  if  all  these  were  necessary  for  national 
glory  and  strength. 

"  Now,"  said  I,  "  you  need  have  no  fear  of  Portugal. 
She  has  her  ancient  renown  and  power  and  has  just  as 
good  a  right  to  travel  her  own  road  to  distinction  as 
her  neighbors  and  contemporaries  have  to  travel  theirs. 
She  once  reached  a  great  height  and  has  had  but  a  few 
years  of  peaceful  endeavor  since  her  tide  turned.  And 
it  is  evident  she  has  now  turned  her  attention  towards 
industrial  development  and  the  application  of  her  ener- 
gies to  her  vast  outlying  colonial  territories.  When 
the-  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  aiuiounced  not  long 
ago  that  the  future  of  Portugal  lay  largely  in  her 
African  possessions,  he  undoubtedly  pointed  the  path 
his  nation  proposed  to  travel.  Portugal  is  a  most 
interesting  study — only  study  her  just  as  she  is." 

Into  this  study  the  politics  of  Portugal  naturally 
enters,  and  of  tliis  chai)ter  the  dozen  sacks  and  sieges 
of  Lisbon,  and  the  public  and  private  nuirdcrs  of  kings 
and  (pieeiis  and  councillors  inmimerable,  which  mark 
the  last  thousand  years  of  her  existence  form  no  part 
whatever.  Under  the  ancient  rri^iinc,  notwithstanding 
the  constantly  recurring  civil  commotions,  the  Por- 
tuguese had  been  undoubtedly  a  united  and  happy 
people,  who,  while  they  differed  materially  on  ques- 
tions of  supremacy,  had  no  occasion  for  political  divi- 
.sions  or  discussions.  With  the  French  armies,  however, 
came  I'Vcnch  philosopliy  and  iiolitics.  The  people,  who 
were  not  to  be  subdued  by  the  armies  of  Napoleon,  and 
whose  autonomy  was  considered  an  important  integral 
part  of  the  imperial  power  of  ICurope,  yielded  to  tliQ 


2r,t  A  YI;aR  in  i'ORTUGAL 

inf)rc*  insidious  inflncucc  of  ix)]nilar  assertion  and  claims 
f<jr  popular  right.     Political  clamor  and  political  pun- 
ishments commenced.     The  first  attempt  to  establish  a 
constitutional  government  failed  and  its  leaders  were 
brought  to  the  scaflold.     When  in    1S20  the  Constitu- 
tion was  proclaimed  in   Lisbon  and  Oporto,  a  citizen 
monarchy   connnenced   and    ]K)litical   agitations   were 
organized.     In  the  Nova  I^'i   Fundamental  were  em- 
bodied changes  in   the  laws   and    institutions   of  the 
country — the  so\creignty  was  declared  to  reside  essen- 
tially in  the  i)eople  and  the  title  of  Majesty  was  given 
to    the    Cortes.      In    1.S07    tlie    royal    family    had    left 
Portugal    and    taken    up    its    residence    in    Brazil,    a 
regency    governing   in    Lisbon    in    the   name    of    the 
Queen   Dona    Maria    I.     At   her    death    in     1816   her 
son,  Doni  John  \'L,  became  Kingbut  continued  to  reside 
in  Rio.     Meanwhile  liberal  ideas  ])egan  to  take  ro(jt  in 
I'ortugal,    and    agitations    increased    rapidly.     An   at- 
tempt on   tlie  j>art  of   JCngland   to    restore   the   royal 
family  filled.     Secret  political  societies  were  organized 
in  ()]K)rto  and  elsewhere,     \  Jim  la  presided  over  by 
Silveira    Pinto    dc    Ponseca,    whose    protestations   of 
fidelity  to  the  Cn^wn  and  the  reigning  fauiily  of  Bra- 
ganza,  had   great   influence  in   leading  the  people    to 
acquiesce  in  the  proposed  change  of  government.     An 
ineffectual  proclamation    drawn  up  by   the  Count  de 
Palmella  and  signed  by   the  Cardinal   Patriarch,   the 
Marcpiis  de  P>orba,  Count  de  Pcniche,  Count  de  Feria, 
and  by  vSenhor  A.  Gomes  Ribeiro  was  issued  ;  but  the 
Cortes  met  in  vain,  Lisbon  followed  the  exam])le  of 
Oporto,  the  "junta  Provhioial  do  Govrrno  Supremo^' 
w.'is  formed  and  the  regency  was  dismissed.     The  peo- 
j)le  were  at   once   called   upon   to   take   the   oath   o£ 


POLITICS.  265 

allegiance.     The  junta  issued  orders  that  deputies  for 
all  the  provinces  should  be  elected  to  form  a  represen- 
tative chamber  ;  on  January  24,  1821,  a  Cortes  assem- 
bled in  Lislxni.     The    Provisional  junta  resi.^ncd   its 
powers  ;  and  on  the  3d  of  the  following  July  the  King, 
Dom  John,  arrived  from  Rio  with  four  thousand  fol- 
lowers, including  his  family,  the  Corps  Diplomatique, 
the  ministers,  the  court  deputies  for  the  colonies,  and  a 
numerous  suite.     The  King  prt)cceded  at  once  to  the 
House  of  Deputies  where  he  took  an  oath  of  allegiance 
to  the  new  Constitution  "  so  far  as  it  was  already  pre- 
pared."    On  the   ist  of  October  following,  the  King 
took    the   required   oath    under    a  completed    Consti- 
tution ;  one  hundred  and  forty    'epulies  signed  their 
adherence  to  the    Constitution,    and  on   the   4th   the 
chamber  was  prorogued.    The  royal  consort,  Dona  Car- 
lota,  refused  to  take  th.e  oath,  and  by  a  royal  decree 
was  ordered  to  retire  from  the  Court  and  reside  at  the 
Quinta  de  Ramalhao  near  Cintra. 

This  C(mslilulion  was  short-lived.  It  was  opposed 
to  the  general  opinion  of  F.urope.  A  single  chamber 
elected  by  tlie  people  was  empowered  to  nominate  a 
State  Council  of  thirteen  members,  whose  term  of  oflke 
was  to  be  but  four  years.  The  Crown  was  silent  and 
powerless  in  the  presence  of  the  Legislature.  The 
sovereign  was  obliged  to  yield  to  every  whim  of  the 
assembly — and  to  unjust  and  fatal  laws  he  could  only 
oppose  a  temporary  opposition.  Tliis  "Congress" 
conunenced  issuing  theoretical  principles,  and  entan- 
gled itself  in  questions  of  secondary  importance;  and 
the  Constitution  was  "reduced  to  a  collection  of  the- 
oretical maxims."  It  is  said  that  during  the  last 
nioulhs   of  its  existence  tliere  were  connnitted  more 


2C>C)  A  VI;AK  in   I'OFUnCAL. 

scandals,  more  injustice,  and  more  illegalities,  if  possi- 
ble, than  during  the  days  of  absolutism.  The  estab- 
lishment of  this  Constitution  of  1822  ^vas  so  strongly 
opposed  by  Russia,  Austria,  and  Prussia,  that  they 
recalled  their  ministers  from  the  court  of  Dom  John. 

Prior  to  this  time  there  had  been  Cortes  in  Portugal 
a})parently  as  ^vise  and  independent  as  any  ever  assem- 
bled in  Kurope.  This  was  the  case  in  1352  ;  and  in 
1697  ^  niceting  of  the  Cortes  is  recorded,  consisting  of 
members  of  the  three  estates  of  tlie  realm  :  the  clergy, 
the  nobility,  and  the  people. 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  that  violent  opposition  to  the 

Constitution  and  the  Cortes  should  have  arisen.      In 

I'el)ruary,    1S23,  the  Count  dc  Aniarante  issued  a  pr(.)c- 

lamatiou  at  \"\\\^  Real  de  Tras-os-Montes,  in  which  he 

declared  that  he  rose  '  to  deliver  the  country  from  the 

yoke  of  the  Cor4.es  and  the  revolutionary  pest,  and  to 

give  the  King  his  liberty  ;"  a  iK-rformaucc  for  which 

he  was  deprived  by  the  King  of  his  titles  and  honors, 

and  was  forced  to  take  refuge  in  Spain  with  his  troops. 

Whether  the  King  was  in  earnest  or  not  in  his  action 

is  not  known — but  it  is  known  that  not  long  after  the 

condenniatioii  of  Count  dc  Amarante,  the  King's  own 

son,   Dom   Miguel,  commenced  his   operations   which 

threw  tl:e  countr}-   into  a  long  and  cruel   civil   war. 

Dom  Miguel  made  his  first  decree  at  \'illa  Franca  on 

the  27th  of  May,  1S23,  and  was  there  joined  by  a  large 

body  of  troojis.     The  movement  in   \'illa  l-Vanca  was 

seconded    in    Lisbon,    when   a    regiment   of  infantry 

marched  to  the  i)alace  and  shouted,  'T'/jy?  d  Kci.  ylb- 

soliito !     Mona  a  Consiilitiras ;''     to  which  the  King 

re])lied.  "Since  you  wish  it,  since  the  country  desires 

it,  '  /  'ii'a  (I  l\ii  ylbsolu/o!  '  "  and  ere  long  issue<l  a  prog- 


roLiTir^.  267 

lamation  dcclariiig  that  the  Constitution  was  illegal 
and  incompatible  with  good  govenuncnt.  Dotn 
Miguel  was  meanwhile  appointed  commander-in-chief 
of  the  army.  Queen  Carlota  plotted  a  complete  reac- 
tion in  favor  of  absolutism.  The  King,  D(mi  John, 
returned  to  the  capital  and  formed  a  new  ministry,  and 
a  counter-revolution  was  commenced,  having  its  origin 
in  the  Court. 

Revolutions  are  always  attended  with  great  confu- 
sion. In  this  affair  in  Portugal  it  seems  as  if  "  con- 
fusion were  worse  confounded."  The  King  had  his 
jdans — the  Queen  h;id  hers — Dom  Miguel  had  his. 
I'lots  for  the  King's  dethronement  were  charged  upon 
the  Queen  and  her  .son.  The  King  sought  safety  on 
boaril  H.  B.  M.  ship-of-war.  the  Windsor  Cintli\  froni 
which  he  issued  a  proclamation  promising  public 
.security  to  the  Portuguese  ;  denouncing  the  "sinister 
inspirations"  by  which  his  son,  Dom  Miguel,  was  led  ; 
withdrawing  from  him  the  authority  which  per\'erse 
intrigues  had  led  him  to  abuse  ;  and  commanding  all 
to  preserve  strict  obedience  to  the  authority  of  his  royal 
name.  Upon  this  Dom  Miguel  embarked  for  Brest, 
and  the  King  returned  amidst  great  rejoicings.  All 
this  happened  in  iS:?4. 

On  the  loth  of  March,  1826,  Donv  John  VI.  died, 
having  on  the  6th  signed  a  decrexi  appointing  his 
daughter,  the  Infanta  Dona  Isabel  Maria,  regent,  in 
the  absence  of  his  eldest  sim,  Dom  Pedro,  the  lawful 
heir  to  the  throne  of  Portui;al,  an  arrangement  quite 
unsatisfactory  to  tlie  i)retender,  Dom  Miguel.  He,  in- 
deed, declared  his  approbation  until,  as  he  expressed 
himself,  "  the  intenli(.ns  of  the  legitimate  heir  and  suc- 
cessor to  it,  who  is  our  much  beloved  brother  and  lord, 


268  A  YiiAK  IN  i'(  iKTUGAI.. 

llic  ICmiK-Tor  of  lira/.il,  shouM  In-  iikkIc  ki'owti  "  ;  and 
he  al-o  ad'lrrsscd  tlui  Ivnipcror  Dom  Pedro,  in  which 
he  afknu\vU-'l;^(..-fl  His  Iiii]K'rial  Majesty  as  his  "  lej^iti- 
malc  soverei;;ii  and  licir  and  succi-ssor  to  the  Cnnvn  of 
onr  ghirious  ancestors."  With  tliese  declaratitjns  of 
loyalty  and  fidelity,  h')\ve\er,  Doni  Mij^uel  was  already 
entertaining  the  idea  of  retnrnin^  to  T,isbon  from 
V'ietina,  lo  which  he  had  heen  banished  by  his  father. 
The  Spanish  minister  at  Vienna  stron;^ly  adxised  his 
return  to  IJsb'»n.  Intri.mies  sprang  uj)  at  once  in  his 
bel)a'f.  'I'll'.-  Kiiij^  of  S]>ain  was  opposed  to  the  retnin 
ofDoni  I'edro  "on  acroinit  of  his  liberal  ideas."  At- 
tempt' were  made  to  anan^e  a  mairia^;e  between  I)om 
.Mij-iid  and  I'linces-,  Chri  4iaii  of  Napl<"S,  .Slill  the 
virlnon-1  I)om  .Miguel  resisted,  J)om  I'edro  confirmed 
the  authority  of  the  re;^ency  to  ^(nern  until  the  con- 
stitutional charter  which  he  had  prepared  for  Portugal 
should  be  ])njnuilg.ited — the  charter  of  1826  ;  and  hav- 
ing effected  this,  he  abdicated  in  favor  of  the  next  heir, 
his  daughter,  Dona  Maria  da  Gloria,  on  condition 
that  the  charter  .should  be  received  and  ratified  in  Por- 
tugal, and  that  a  marriage  between  the  young  Queen 
and  Dom  Miguel  should  be  contracted. 

I)om  Miguel  had,  hr>wever,  fallen  into  other  hands. 
The  Ivmpcror  of  Austria  was  oj)posed  to  the  Charter. 
Prince  Metlernich  slated  tliat  "  the  Senorita  Infanta  had 
brought  him  a  letter  and  pajK-rs  which  had  been  .sent 
to  his  Highness  for  the  purjKtse  of  convincing  him  of 
his  right  to  the  throne  aiid  of  the  ntdlity  of  the  oaths 
they  had  obliged  him  to  take."  He  fell  into  tlie  hands 
of  the  absolutists.  Tlie  hostile  intentions  of  Kitig 
I'erdinand  toward  Portugal  c<jntinued,  and  the  name 
of  Dom  Miguel  was  constantly  invoked  in  aid  of  these 


I'OLITIC^.  269 

rebellious  attempts.  The  Portuguese  ambassador  was 
instructed  to  call  on  Great  IJritain  for  that  assistance 
which  was  stipulated  by  treaty  between  the  two  coun- 
tries. Accordinv^ly  George  IV.  sent  a  message  to  the 
two  Houses  of  Parliament,  calling  on  them  to  secure 
from  foreign  hostility  "  the  most  ancient  ally  of  Great 
IJritain." 

Five  thousand  British  troops  were  in  consecjuence 
.sent  to  Lisbon  under  General  Clinton. 

Declaiations  in  favor  (jf  I)om  Miguel  were  made  at 
ojite  in  many  i)artsof  the  kingdom.    In  Ai)ril,  1H27,  the 
garrison  of  I'.lvas,  on  the  frontier  of  Spain,  united  ilsf.-lf 
with  the  i)oi)ulaee,  and  declared  in  favor  of  I)om  .Miguel 
as  absolute  King  with  <ries  of  "  Death  t<»  the  Constitu- 
tion !  "     The   course   of   l)om    Pedro   was   not   easily 
understood.     On  July  3,  iX2y,  he  wrote  to  George  IV. 
that  "the  necessity  of  establishing  order  in  Portugal 
and  of  consolidating  the  constitutional  system  which 
has   there  been   sworn    to  compels  me,   as  legitimate 
sovereign,  to  send  an  order  to  the  Infante  Dom  Miguel, 
my  brother  and  son-indaw,  to  proceed  to  govern  that 
kingdom  in  my  nan)e  and  as  my  lieutenant."    A  signal 
like  this  the  Pretender  was  not  reluctant  to  obey  ;  at 
this  call  every   obstructive  element   in   the  kingdom 
rallied  to  his  bainier. 

On  isth  October,  Mctternich.  in  conference  with  the 
ICtiglish  Ambassador  and  the  Portuguese  plenipotenti- 
ary, agreed  that  Dom  Miguel  should  accept  the  regency 
and  set  out  for  Lisbon  at  once,  giving  assurance  that  on 
his  arrival  he  "  finuly  intends  to  support  the  charter." 
Tlie  Duke  of  Palmella  urged  the  return  of  Dom  Miguel 
as  a  relief  to  the  prevalent  disorders  of  Portugal,  and 
fearing  that  unless  this  wai  done  changes  and  disturb- 


270  A  YIAK  IN  I'OKTIUJAI,. 

aiiccs  would  be  in  ,slor<j  for  iiKiny  years  to  come.  The 
Spanish  minister  also  urged  his  return.  October  27, 
1827,  Dom  Miguel  wrote  to  his  brother  Dom  Pedro 
accepting  the  ai)p()intmeiit  of  regent  of  the  kingdoms 
(;f  I'orlugal  and  the  Algarves  and  their  dei)endencies, 
and  declaring  his  intention  to  nuiintain  the  institutions 
by  which  the  Portuguese  monarchy  is  governed.  On 
Octobe!'  30th  he  arrived  in  London,  was  entertained  by 
King  (ieorge  IV.,  visited  the  Duke  of  Wellington  at 
Slratlifi'ldsaye,  and  passed  on  to  Lisbon,  where  his 
adherents  were  already  en>;aged  in  vi^uis  for  "  'I'lie  holy 
religion  of  our  fathers  ;  Dom  Mij'.nel,  the  absolute  nion- 
an  h  ;  the  august  throne  of  ]'>ragauva  ;  the  re-established 
mt;narchy."  On  I'ebruary  22(1  Dom  Miguel  ariived  in 
Lisbon,  and  Dona  .Maria,  th.e  regent,  formally  handed 
over  her  powers  to  jiim.  Meanwhile  com])laints  were 
made  by  the  Minister  f(jr  Foreign  Affairs  that  democ- 
racy had  gained  too  much  ]M)\ver  in  I'ortugal.  The 
regent  commenced  at  once  to  resist  and  oppose  all 
revolutionary  i)rinciijles  ;  dissolved  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  on  the  ground  that  many  of  its  niembers  had 
made  the  famous  protest  against  any  alteration  of  the 
Constitution  of  1S22;  called  around  himself  a  party 
ready  to  proclaim  him  absolute  King,  and  secured 
a  convocation  of  the  "  ancient  Cortes  of  the  kingdom" 
in  ]>lace  of  the  Chambers  of  Parliament.  Kngland 
was  disturbed  ;  Lord  Dudley,  then  Secretary  of  State 
for  P^oreign  Affairs,  expressed  to  P.dmella  the  belief 
lliat  Dom  Miguel  entertained  the  firm  intention  of  setting 
aside  the  Charter,  Portuguese  funds  began  to  fall  ;  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  feared  .serious  consequences  froiu 
the  recent  proceedings.  Dom  Pedro  becaiue  alanned  ; 
a  protest  to  the  Portuguese  nation  was  issued  in  his 


POLITICS.  271 

name  and  that  of  his  daughter,  Queen  Dona  Maria, 
against  the   unjust   and   shameful   usurpation  of  the 
sovereign's  riglils,     A  reign  of  persecution  now  com- 
menced   throughout    Portugal.      The    Cortes    signed 
their  adhesion  to  the  usurper.     The  insincerity  of  Dom 
Miguel  became  more  and  niore  n^rmifest.     Ilis  ministers 
established  a  reign  of  terror.     Ten  liberals  were  hanged 
on  one  scaffold  at  Oporto  on  April  9,   1H29  ;  thirteen 
others  of  the  same  ])arty  were  sent  to  the  coast  of  Africa, 
and  a  long  list  of  colonels,  cajjtains,  and  judges  were 
exiUfl  or  i)nt  to  death.      NoblenuM   and  oflicers  were 
boiuid    with   cords,    (I lagged    Ihroiigh    the   streets  of 
Opotlo,  and  ^t^angU■d  on  a  lofly  scaffold  so  tb.at  their 
punishments  might  be  witnessed  by  the  people  ;  their 
heads  were  cut  o(T,  their  bodies  burned,  and  the  ashes 
thrown  itito  the  sea,     A  formal  attempt  to  secure  from 
the  I'higlish  government  a  recognition  of  Dona  Maria 
was  met  In'  the  declaration  of  I.ord  Talmerston  that 
this  would  be  impossible  under  the  circumstances  of 
Dom  Miguel's  possession  of  the  kingdom.    The  entry  of 
the  Queen's  forces  into  Oporto  alone  relieved  that  city  ; 
the  prisons  were  opened  ;  the  liangman   was  put  to 
death  by  the  mob.     The  strife  was  transferred  to  L,is- 
bon,  where  the  struggle  was  fierce  and  bloody.     In- 
numerable were  the  atrocities  committed  by  the  parti- 
sans of  ab-olutism  in  many  parts  of  the  kingdom  during 
these  years.     In  I",siremo/.  alone,  on  the  .'?7th  of  July, 
1.S32,  thirty-three  [xilitical  ])risoners  were  barbarously 
assassinated  in  the  prisons  by  a  frantic  populace  incited 
by  the  authorities  and  assisted  by  the  military  force 
which  was  itself  appointed  to  gu:u(l  the  safety  of  their 
prisoners.     Lisbon  was  besieged,  and  the  destruction 
of  life  and  property  was  enormous.     The  forces  of  Dom 


272  A  Y1:AI<  in  I'OKTICAL. 

Miguel   ^\■L■re   at   last   dislijdgcd,    Sir   Charles  Napier 
annihilated  his  fleet,  and  he  was  oldiged  to  resign  all 
rlaims  to  tlie  Crown.     On  Sepleni1)er  22,   1832,  Dona 
^^ariu  arrived  in  the  Tagus  and  at  onee  took  possession 
of  her  tlirone.      J'ut  war  and  slaughter  still  went  on. 
l'*actions    di\-ided    the   people  ;    and   not   until  June, 
1834,  did  Doin  Miguel  embark  at  Sines,  the  Itirthplace 
of  Vasco  do  Ciaina.  for  Oeuoa  and  for  that  exile  from 
Portugal  which  ultimately  brought  peace  and  an  op- 
portunity for  improv.Muent  to  that  unhappy  kingchjin. 
The  day,  however,  bn^ke  slowly.     The  assault  on 
Leiria  f(;r  its  rescue,  the  battle  at  rernes,  and  the  rout 
of  the  MigueliteS  were  advancing  steps  in  the  onward 
marih  of  the  supporters  of  the  Queen  ;  but  it  seemed  as 
if  intrigues  more  disastrous   than  battle  would  never 
end.     It  is  said  that  a  portion  of  the  clergy,  siijiporterscjf 
Donv  Miguel,  sought  every  means  of  injining  the  cause 
of  the  Queen.     The  campaign  of  1834  was  most  active 
and,  as  I  have  stated,  most  successfvd.     The  political 
complications   were   nuxst   interesting  ami   important. 
The  people  were  still  dissatisfied.     The  government 
was   not   ])opular.     On    more    than   one   occasion    the 
Queen  was  insulted,  and  when  on  August  15,  1S34,  ^^^^ 
Chambers  asscnd)led,  Dom  Pedro  reviewed  the  history 
of  affairs  from    1826  and  asked  for  a  decision  of  the 
cpjestion  whetlier  he  should  or  should  not  act  as  regent 
diu'ing   the   minority  f;f  his  daughter.     Tliere  was  a 
nuiltitude  of  councillors — not,  however,  of  that  kind 
which  secures  safety.    In  the  confusion  I  )om  Pedro  with- 
drew from  the  regency  ;  the  majority  of  Dona  Maria  II. 
was  proclaii'.ied  by  the  Cortes,   aiul  she  assumed  the 
reins  of  power  and  the  duties  of  the  wife  of  Charles 
Kugcne  Napoleon,  Duke  de  Leuchtenberg,  at  the  same 


POLITICS.  273 

time.     The  reign  continued,  but  the  death  of  the  Duke 
broke  up  the  family.     Still  Doin  Miguel  threatened  from 
his  retirement.     Disturbances  broke  out  in  the  colonies. 
The  finances  were  in  disorder.     Part}-  hate  led  to  fre- 
quent assassinations.     The  national  guard  was  disor- 
};ani7,ed.     Dishonest  subordinates  had  to  be  dismissed. 
The  ministry  was  frc(itiently  dissolved.     And  a  new 
era  was  inaugurated  on  Jamiary  i,  1S36,  Ijy  the  mar- 
riage of  the  Queen  with  Prince  Ferdinand  of  vSaxe-Co- 
burg,  who  was  made  Marshal-General  of  the  kingdom. 
Questions  still   arose   with  regard  to  the   ministerial 
power.     The  struggle  continued  between  the  support- 
ers of  the  Constitution  of  1S22  and  the  Charter  of  1S26 
— the  former  iK-ing  covnited  against  the  monarchical 
power  and  the  latter  in  its  fi\or.     The  Constitution 
was  based  on  what  were  calleil  "  the  rights  of  man  "  ; 
the   Charter  of  1826  was  prepared   on   the   plan  and 
principles  of  the  British  Constitution.     The  Constitu- 
tion nullified  the  sovereign's  right  of  veto — the  Charter 
made  the  right  of  veto   absolute.     The   Constitution 
conferred  all  the  prerogatives  of  royalty  on  the  Council 
— the  Charter  provided  for  life  members  of  the  Council 
named  by  the  Crown.     And  now  peace  being  restored, 
the  Cortes  met  for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  new  con- 
stitution—the new   Constitution  of   1X38,    which   pro- 
vided for  a  .Senate  and  a  House  of  Deputies,  the  ])rin- 
ciples   of  the   Charter   still    remaining   .so  far   as   the 
iCxecvitive  was  concerned.     This  Constitution  met  the 
usual  fate,  and  in  1S45  it  was  set  aside  and  the  Charter 
of    1826    was    rest')red.     The   acts   of   the   Assembly 
organizing  a  magistracy,  regulating  the  taxes  atid  tlie 
department  of  health  created  a  fresh  disturbance,  and 
the  formation  of  a  new  ministry  resulted  in  riots  and 


274  A  YEAR  IN  I'ORTUGAL. 

martial  law  in  the  streets  of  Lisbon.  Again  securities 
fell,  and  the  prospect  was  gloomy.  Now  and  then  a 
h'u\i  shout  was  heard  for  Doni  Miguel.  In  the  midst 
of  the  confusion,  on  the  15th  of  November,  1.S53.  the 
Queen  Dona  Maria  II.  died  suddenly,  leaving  the  King 
Consort  regent  during  the  minority  of  his  eldest  son, 
Dom  Pedro  V.,  born  on  September  16,  1S37. 

The  story  of  the  deatli  of  this  young  King  and  his 
charming  Queen,  Ivstaphania  is  familiar  to  all  readers 
of  history,  and  his  graceful  example,  his  luipretending 
desire  for  good  government,  his  domestic  fidelity,  form 
a  picture  between  the  disturbed  condition  of  Portugal, 
to  which  I  have  hastily  crdled  attention,  and  the 
])resent,  whicli  gives  additional  charm  to  the  comjiara- 
ti\'e  peace  and  prosperity  wlii'/h  have  followed.  The 
accession  of  Dom  Luis  to  the  thn^nc  was  attended  by  a 
most  characteristic  Portuguese  tragedy.  Without  warn- 
ing the  royal  family  had  been  swept  away  by  an  unac- 
countable disease,  ])r(;lher  after  brother  had  succumljed, 
the  Palaee  of  Necessidades  liad  been  turned  into  a  tomb, 
and  the  heir  to  the  throne  had  been  preserved  l)y  the 
accident  of  at'Sence  from  Lisbc^n  in  the  naval  service  of 
his  country.  Dom  Luis  on  cf)ming  to  the  thrfmc  left 
behind  him  the  strange  story  I  have  related.  At  the 
close  of  his  reiv^n  he  receiverl  the  y\nieii(aii  Minister  in 
Cintra,  where  he  gave  him  an  andienc  c-,  in  the  Royal 
I'alace  there,  broken  in  health  and  soon  to  ]»ass  away. 
During  his  rjign  he  had  ])erfected  many  of  those  meas- 
ures of  reform  whicli  are  bringing  Portugal  into  the 
fnMit  rank  of  nations  as  a  constitutional  monarchy. 
The  well-defined  j)ower  of  the  King  is  everywhere  rec- 
ognized. The  jjcople  arc  determined  for  the  rights  of 
their  country.     The  cause  of  education  is  encouraged. 


POLITICS.  475 

The  dignity  of  the  government  is  presen'ed.  And 
Dom  Carlos  I.  has  only  to  manifest  a  deep  interest  in 
the  welfare  of  his  people  to  secure  all  that  loyalty  and 
devotion  which  are  their  peculiar  characteristics.  That 
the  generally  diffused  prosperity  of  Portugal  is  on  the 
increase  there  is  stro.ig  belief.  The  energy  which 
for  so  many  centuries  placed  her  in  the  foremost  rank 
of  nations,  and  which  enabled  her  to  assert  and  defend 
constitutional  right  against  the  intrigues  of  the  mo.st 
adroit  and  powerful  legitimists  in  Ivnrope,  will  undoubt- 
edly develop  her  resources  and  confirm  and  strengthen 
her  power. 

April  2oth. — It  is  more  than  half  a  century  sitice  the 
political  events  I  so  hastily  reviewed  to  Chester  oc- 
curred, and  during  all  that  period  Portugal  has  been 
steadily  and  gradually  .settling  into  a  normal  condition. 
The  Sturm  did  not  retire  at  once — but  flashes  were  oc- 
casionally seen  in  the  horizon,  and  a  far-off  subdued 
roar  of  thunder  was  heard  as  the  clouds  passed  away. 
iM-om  his  retirement  Dom  Miguel  took  occasional  o1)ser- 
vations,  and  now  and  then  an  uprising  in  his  behalf 
was  threatened.  The  marriage  of  the  Queen,  however, 
iu'  1.S36,  to  Dom  rVrnando,  introduced  an  element  of 
strength  into  the  rouTitry  and  secured  most  valuable 
alliances,  the  effect  of  which  continiies  to  this  day. 
Tlie  charter  of  1.S26  was  restored  in  i.H.}^.  And  on  the 
death  of  the  Queen,  which  occurred  in  November,  1.S51, 
Dom  hV-rnando  became  regent,  in  which  position  he 
contiiuied  initil  1855,  when  his  son,  Dom  Pedro  V.,  be- 
came of  a.i;e  and  assumed  tlie  reins  of  govenimcnt — a 
young  King  of  mo-^t  engaging  manners,  great  sincerity, 
umisual  wisdom,  who.  with  his  young  Queen,  Ksta- 
I)hania,   tiled   after  a   slu)rt   reign,   as    I    ha\e   .said,   in 


276  A  YEAR  IN  rORTl'GAL. 

1.851.    Dom  Luis,  his  sucxcssor,  has  but  recently  passed 
away. 

This  liasly  and  imperfect  sketch  of  the  last  great  po- 
litical stniggle  in  Portugal  I  gave  Chester  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  trials  which  surround  a  people  whose  history 
and  traditions  arc  not  in  accord  with  the  object  for 
which   they  strive.      Portugal  was  not  passing  from 
monarchy    to   republicanism,   as  many  of  her   peoplc 
hoped,  but  from  ("iie  form  of  monarchy  to  another.     It 
cannot  l^e  said  tliat  p','pular  government  had  any  inter- 
est whatever  in  the  strife.     The  extreme  absolutism  o' 
luiropc  encouraged  in  her  a  reactionar>'  mcjvement,  not 
on  account  of  immediate  alarm,  but  out  of  a  fear  th.it 
perhaps  a  growing  desire  for  self-government  in  Brazil, 
with  which   her  relations  were  most  intimate,  might 
gather  strt.'Ugth  enough  to  revolutioni/.e  her  own  .n- 
stitutions.     ICngland  liad  assisted  Portugal  in  defeating 
the  annies  of  Napoleon,  but  Ivngland  had  no  desire  to 
see  imperialism  overthrown   in   the  rescued  countiy. 
Austria  was  alert  for  monarchical  power  in  all  Ivurope. 
And  so  the  strugij;le  went  on.     The  ])(nver  of  the  mon- 
archy was  confiniied.     The  most  easily  fitting  ct^ns.i- 
tutioii  was  secured,     Tiie  alliance  of  Porln^'al  witli  llie 
great  monarchical  junvers  of  I'.uroix:  was  strengtlienel. 
And  she  sailed  'ner  the  stormiest  sea  t(;  float  at  last 
iulo  a  1)  irl/f^r  v.liere  she  finds  ojtportunily  for  all  those 
fa<-uUies   wliich    her    varying    fortinies  and   her  trie. Is 
have  developed. 

"  I'wrlugal  has  a  ])eculiar  charm  for  me,"  said  Chester, 
''that  charm  which  always  goes  with  a  veil.  I  have 
tried  to  read  vSouthey's  unfinished  history,  antl  Beck- 
ford's  rhapsodies,  and  Miss  Pardoe's  sketches,  and 
Murray's  old  (piarto,  and  have  read  Portugal  old  ai.d 


I^OLITICS.  277 

new,  but  I  always  wanted  a  friendly  introduction. 
You  know  the  old  mysterious  kingdom,  which  when 
Napoleon  had  succeeded  in  ruling'  and  closing  every 
port  from  Trieste  to  St.  Petersburg  on  the  Ivuropean 
continental  coast,  stood  out  against  him,  patted  on  the 
back  by  I-'ngland,  and  exchanging  nods  with  the 
defiant  young  republic  of  the  vStars  and  Stripes.  I 
like  the  picture." 

"  You  arc  affectionate,"  said  I,  "  now,  when  you  say 
anything  about  Portugal  tell  about  the  busy  Portu- 
guese in  America,  what  industrious  citizens  they  are. 
Tell  about  the  charming  little  gardens  of  Lisbon,  Tell 
about  the  great  camellia  trees  in  Cintra,  beneath  which 
at  tliis  season  the  ground  is  thickly  strewn  with  the 
fallen  flowers,  and  tell  Blackniore  that  he  is  mistaken 
when  he  says  in  *  Kit  and  Kitty  '  that  '  if  you  send  for 
camellias  to  Portugal  you  see  a  great  clumsy  stickout 
at  the  heel  of  the  graft  and  the  bark  grinning  open  all 
along,'  but  that  for  camellias  and  roses  and  geraniums, 
Cintra  can  match  the  world.  Tell  about  the  good 
things  in  P(»rtugal,  as  you  d(;  al)out  those  in  Ivngland 
and  I'rance  and  Italy,  and  advise  your  friends  to  come 
and  see."  ' 

"The  rest  you  know  well,"  .said  I  to  Chester,  who 
seemed  desirous  (jf  prolonging  the  description.  For 
the  j^rovisions  of  the  i)re>ent  Constitution,  to  which  lie 
was  willing  at  last  to  turn,  I  refe.'-ed  him  to  a  letter  I 
wrote  some  months  ago  to  my  exctllent  American 
C(;rrespondent,  to  wh(/m  I  have  also  given  aecoinit  of 
the  ro\al  funerals,  coronation,  and  ehii^teiiing,  and  tlie 
political  movements  wliich  have  occurred  since  Doni 
Carlos  ascended  tlie  throne.  In  the  excitement  attend- 
ing   the    occupation    1>>-   I'.ngland  of  territoiy  in   Ivast 


27??  A  YIAI'  IN'  l-riKTIKIAL. 

Alriai  claimed  aiul  occupiiMl  by  Porttigal  on  the  ground 
of  original  discovery,  the  government  here  has  con- 
ducted itself  in  a  firm  and  dignified  jnanncr,  protesting 
against  tlie  crown   of  Great   Britain  and  counselling 
moderation  among   the   exasperated    jieople.     Quietly 
one  lnini^tl■y  li.is  retired   and  another  ]i:is  been  called 
together  by  the  King.     A  Corte:;  has  been  dissolved  and 
a  new  one  elected  without  opposition,  bev-ond  a  suc- 
cessful coaliti(.in  of  jjnjgressisls,  republicrins,  and  Afri- 
cans ill  Lisbon,     I'aiergelic  stejis  have  been  taken  by 
the  Government  fi>r  an  increase  of  the  army  and  navy. 
A  disposition  has  been  manifested  to  enlarge  the  com- 
mercial  relations  of  the  kingdom,  which  have  been 
somewhat  confined  to  a  single  channel.     At  the  opening 
of  the  Cortes,  on  the  i^th  of  April,  the  King  delivered 
an  address  marked  by  souud  ju'lgmeut,  a  spirit  of  con- 
ciliation, and  an  earnest  desire  (nr  the  j^iosinrity  and 
honor   of  the   country.     Of  the   mode  <;f  conducting 
business  in  the  Cortes  I  can  say  but  little.     'I'he  only 
important  assembling  (jf  this  body  that  I   have  seen 
was  that  convened  to  hear  from  »Senhor  ]>arn<s  Gomes 
his  account  of  the  difhculty  between  Portugal  and  the 
baiglish    Government,    and    I    nv:is    struck    with    the 
C(nirtesy  and  good  order  of  the  audience.     And  now, 
Chester,  what  more  have  you  to  say  about  Lisbon  ?  " 

"  O,  Lisbon  has  been  entertaining,"  said  he.  "  The 
populace  ar*  orderly  and  respectful.  They  take  ofl' 
their  liats  when  they  meet  and  ])art,  and  they  shake 
hands  frequently.  They  are  well  dressed  and  ride  on 
most  excellent  saddle-horses  with  a  firm  and  graceful 
.seat.  The  streets  are  rem.irkably  free  from  drunkards 
and  brawlers.  A  jiet  lamb  is  the  f  ivorite  atti-n<lant  of 
the  common  people.     The  teamsters  drive  fine,  well- 


CUSTOMS.  279 

trained   oxen,   always  on    the   off  side.     Newspapers 
abound  and  are  universally  read.     The  problem  of  the 
hack-drivers  I  luive  been  unable  to  solve  ;  there  is  no 
l)rice  fixed  except  an  exorbitant  one,  and  the  threats 
of  the  i)')lice  are  willunit  effect.     The  most  picturcscpic 
person  I  have  seen  \v;.s  a  .(,''//A;c<^  K'''^  with  a  red  turban 
on  her  head,  a  red  sash  around  her  waist,  enormous 
golden  rings  in  her  cars,  a  short  striped  shirt,  a  blue 
anderinison  waist,  and  feet  and  ankles  of  the  nattiral 
C(  lor.     >She  was  riding  on  the  front  seat  of  a  horse- 
car.     JSIie  was  one  of  the  fi>h  wonun  at  kisure,  one 
of  the  I  'ariuiJs,  a^  they  are  called,  and  <jne  of  a  class 
of  curious,  industrious,  interc.  ling  jv^oplc,  engaged  in 
fishing  and   .'-elling   th.eir  fares  on   the  streets.      The 
husbands,  brothers,  and  fathers  live  on  the  .sea  like  the 
Swainp>cot  fi->hernien  and  reap  the  same  ample  reward 
firtluir  l;i!)or.     'I'he  female  side  of  the  f imily  do  the 
traflic — little  girls  of  eight  or  ten  years  old  and  woiuen 
of  fifty  and  o\er.     Their  street-cry  is  most  ])iercing. 
The   bawling    of    the   nnde-drivers   and    teamsters   is 
feeble  when  compareil  with  th.it  startling  strain  with 
which   the  women  and  girls  cry   '•/V/.icy."    as   they 
UJarch  steadily  and  rapidly  through  the  streets;    and 
woe  be  to  him  v.ho  iti^ults  or  chafls  one  of  these  strong 
and  sturdy  females,  who  can  walk  all  day  with  untir- 
ing  vig'ir,   and   .strike   a   blow    in    self-defence  which 
would  astonish  John  L.  Sullivan,  of  IJoston. 

"  These  people  and  tlte  sellers  of  lottery-tickets  make 
up  the  most  lively  and  demonstrative  ])art  of  street- 
trade  in  I^isbfju.  The  lottery  is  an  established  institu- 
tion now,  rnid  it  has  always  been,  in  spite  of  obstacles. 
The  rortugiiese  will  take  the  chance  when  they  Cau 
get  it.     When  in  1^7,1,  the  lottery  w.vs  abulishe<l,  good 


2S0  A  YtAK  IN  POI-TIJGAL 

]K'Oj)le  rejoiced,  hul  the  masses  objected  so  strongly 
tli.'it  for  llic  bejiefil  of  the  great  charity  of  tlie  Miseri- 
ctjnlia  it  was  restore<l,  and  now  the  charity  and  the 
goveriiiiieiit  which  taxes  it  get  tile  reward — -char- 
ity getting  12  percent,  of  tlie  anunuit  drawn,  and  the 
state  getting  15  i)er  cent.,  the  hitter  amoiuiting  to 
i54,(x>D  francs  ainuially. 

"  Tlie  nol)ility  are  nnnierous  in  Porlngal  in  i)r();K)rtion 
to  the  ])oi)nIation.  Their  jxiwer,  wliieh  was  Ijnjken  by 
Ponibal,  was,  after  his  deatli,  restored  by  a  liberal 
suijply  of  newly  elevated  persons  of  wealth  or  acconi- 
plislnnents  or  favoritism,  who  devoted  themsel\-es  to 
tlie  patronage  of  the  government.  In  this  industry 
they  were  quite  successful.  Among  all  classes,  how- 
ever, admirable  characteristics  are  found  which  really 
indicate  the  nature  of  the  ])eopIe.  They  have  great 
courage,  self-possession,  patience,  chev:rfuliiess,  and 
affection.  They  are  seldom  in  a  hurry,  and  .society 
moves  on  with  great  tran(iuillity.  They  are  polite;  and 
obliging,  strong  in  their  luxes  an<l  in  tlieir  hales;  and 
find  in  their  families  and  in  the  sc^'ial  atmosphere  of 
Lisbon,  when;  few  strangers  gather,  :dl  the  society 
they  need.  At  the  tiieatre  and  the  opera  the  audi- 
ence is  (piiet  and  ■  undemonstrative,  though  easily 
roused.  Holidays  abound  and  are  strictly  observed. 
The  private  eipiipages  are  good,  and  together  with  all 
other  carriages,  are  driven  with  great  speed,  1  have 
never  seen  a  horse  stumble  even  on  the  most  precipi- 
tous hills.  I  have  never  seen  such  furious  driving,  up 
hill  and  down,  and  I  think  I  lia\e  never  seen  so  many 
unsound  horses  at  work  in  the  streets  And  now,  what 
city  would  you  advise  me  to  visit  next? ' 

*'  If  you  have  never  seen  Seville,"  said  I,  "  go  there. 


Customs.  281 

There  is  no  town  like  it.  Oriental,  bright,  commercial, 
with  a  hcaiiliful  river,  with  jioelic  traditions,  with  the 
nol)lest  and  in<nirnrullcst  callu'lral  in  the  world,  with 
apicture.scjue  hotel,  with  delicious  art,  with  vivacity  and 
energy,  with  fine  avenues,  beautiful  gardens,  a  charm- 
ing surrounding  country,  and  a  most  romantic  histor>', 
— go  to  Seville  and  then  return  to  America." 

The  next  day  Chester  departed  on  a  new  exploration, 
and  in  search  of  a  new  interview.  Whither  he  went  I 
know  not,  but  I  do  know  that  he  carried  with  him  a 
keen  interest  in  the  ancient  little  kingdom,  and  a  sin- 
cere desire  that  her  "  days  may  be  long  in  the  laud." 


CHAPT1:R     XV. 

I.ISBON.-IU^STON. 

yuftc  /.  iSqo. — My  mission  to  Portugal  lias  come  to 
an  end,  and  I  sail  to-day  in  the  steamer  Lanfraiic  for 
Liveqxxjl  and  tlience  for  Boston,  \vlierc  I  can  land  in 
the  neighborlujod  of  my  own  home.  To  bid  farewell  to 
Portugal  seems  to  be  a  very  simple  matter,  but  when  I 
recall  the  events  of  my  diplomatic  career,  and  the 
scenes  and  associations  I  have  enjcn'ed,  I  realize  that  I 
have  had  an  experience  in  which  my  official  services 
have  had  b}'  no  means  the  most  important  part.  It  is 
not  easy  for  a  traveller  to  forget  the  beauties  of  Portu- 
gal, the  channing  river,  the  scenery  of  Cinlra,  the 
anti<iuity  of  I,isbon,  the  lonely  and  mysterious  silence 
of  Mafra.  the  giaudeur  and  beauty  of  Alcoba(;a,  the 
luxuriance  of  the  north  and  the  sandy  wastes  of  the 
south,  the  languitl  industry  of  the  jKople,  and  the  gar- 
dens and  quinlas  which  adorn  the  mountain  sides  and 
lie  along  the  sunny  sIojks — it  is  not  easy  f(^r  a  traveller 
to  forget  all  th.is  even  after  the  most  rapid  flight.  P>ut 
a  year's  life  in  this  dreamy  land  leaves  an  impression 
which  is  not  easily  broken,  and  which  lingers  like  the 
flavor  of  the  violet.  Portugal  keeps  her  peculiar  place 
in  art  and  literature ;  and  no  one  can  forget  the  uni- 
fonnity  and  repose  into  which  she  has  settled  after 
centuries  of  storm  and  conflict. 


LISBON.  283 

When  I  readied  Lisbon  it  became  my  duty  to  call 
the  attention  of  the  government  to  a  demand  for  redress 
for  tlie  course  pursued  towards  a   railway  in  Africa 
which  had  been  seized  for  non-fulfdmcnt  of  a  contract 
made  with  an  American  citi/.en.     It  is  umiecessary  to 
set  forth  the  details  of  the  controversy  over  the  I^)renzo 
Mar(|ues  railway,  and  it  is  difficult  as  well  as  impru- 
dent  to   settle  the   question   here.      The   Portuguese 
government  assumed  that  they  had  acted  in  accordance 
with  the  siMiit  of  the  concession  they  had  made,  and 
that  they  were  not  called  upon  to  adjust  the  difficulty 
with  any  government  but  with    the   claimants.     The 
instructions  fnnn  the  vState  I)ci)artment  made  it  neces- 
sary for  me  to  demand  an  arbitration   i!i  which  the 
United  States  might  appear  in  behalf  of  the  citizens 
whose  pro]KTty  had  been  confiscated.     It  was  a  ques- 
tion evidently  for  peaceful  negotiation,  and  it  furnished 
an   opportunity  for  the  two  nations  to  manifest  their 
characteristics  in  conducting  and  settling  a  controversy. 
The  correspondence  between  myself  and  the  I'oreign 
Ofi'ice  at  Lisbon  contimied  througlu)ut  the  entire  year 
of  my  residence  at  the  Portuguese  Court,  and  resulted 
in  the  SLleclion  of  Swilzerlaml  as  the  power  to  indicate 
an  arlntrator.     The  question  was  not  one  in  which  the 
peace  of  nations  is  involved,  Imt  it  was  one  in  which 
the   temper   and   disposition   of    the   parties      igaged 
might  be  conspicuous.     The  correspondence  was  intri- 
cate and  voluminous  ;  and  it  gave  me  an  opportunity 
to  .study  the  character  of  the  contestants.     Of  my  own 
government  it  may  not  become  me  to  speak— it  carried 
its   point   promptly   and   fiimly.     Of  the   Portuguese 
goverinnent  in  all  this  long  and  intricate  negotiation, 
in  which  Ivngland  also  was  involved,  I  may  express  my 


28-t  A  Yr.AR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

gratification  with  the  skill  and  courtesy  with  which  the 
ccnTe>])on(lciice  was  conducted.  In  my  weekly  visit  at 
the  I'oreign  Ofhcc  I  was  received  with  great  civility  and 
consideration  l)y  the  ministers  who  during  the  year 
Conducted  the  diplomatic  dealings  of  the  kingdom.  I 
have  already  spoken  of  the  graceful  and  impressive 
maimer  in  which  J^enhor  Barros  Gomes  presented  his 
policy  on  the  African  question  to  the  Cortes,  and  I 
shall  always  recall  with  great  pleasure  the  agreeable 
and  kindly  controversies  I  had  with  him  on  the  matter 
in  which  I  had  an  interest.  And  S')  of  his  successor, 
Seiihor  Hint/  Roheiro,  with  whom  the  negfjtiations 
were  finally  (concluded  ;  1  learned  to  admire  his  di])lo- 
malic  .skill  and  the  gractr  with  which  lie  acce])ted  the 
con<lusion. 

I'Vom  the  Political  Director,  Senlior  Agostino  de  Or- 
nellas.  and  from  the  vSecretary  of  the  .Minis'.er,  Haron  San 
I'edro,  I  received  such  courtesies  as  have  j)laced  them 
among  my  most  valuable  acfjuaintances  and  friends. 

It  was  from  the  Foreign  Office  that  I  received  a  full 
set  of  the  acts  and  decrees  of  the  government  of  Portu- 
gal, mnnbering  nearly  two  hundred  volumes,  for  deposit 
in  the  State  T/ibrary  of  Massachusetts,  virtually  an  inter- 
change with  the  V.  S.  Department  of  Agriculture  and 
the  Massachusetts  .State  Board  of  Agriculture  for  the 
valuable  vohnnes  of  these  two  organizations,  which  I 
presented  to  the  gf)vernment  of  Portugal. 

The  business  which  a  foreign  minister  has  with  the 
Foreign  Office  is  ])erformed  with  great  promptness  and 
simj)licity.  On  each  Wednesday  the  ministers  meet  in 
the  salon  of  the  stately  building  in  which  the  office  is 
located,  f  )rmerly  an  am]ile  and  beautiful  palace,  and 
each  official  is  admitted  to  the  .Secretary  in  his  turn. 


LISBON.  285 

On  this  occasion  all  nationalities  are  equal,  the  excep- 
tion being  made  only  in  the  case  of  the  Papal  Nuncio. 
Monsignor  \'annutclli,  who  takes  precedence  of  all,  of 
whose  unassuming  and  impressive  kindness  I  have 
already  spoken,  and  who  since  my  leaving  Portugal 
has  been  elevated  to  the  rank  of  Cardinal  in  the  Church 
of  Rome,  an  honor  to  which  he  was  eminently  entitled 
l)y  his  virtues  and  accomplishments. 

It  was  on  these  occasions  that  I  met  »Sir  George 
Gl>nn  Petre,  the  ICnvoy  of  Great  Ikitain,  who  cared  for 
the  hospitality  and  social  enjoyment  of  the  Diplomatic 
Corjis  ;  and  Baron  dc  W'accker  Gotter,  who  represented 
so  well  the  German  P'mpire,  and  in  his  presence  re- 
sembled the  manner  and  l)earing  of  the  old  Ivmperor 
William  ;  and  the  prudent  (/oedel-I/uuioy,  who  carried 
mo.st  carefully  the  honor  ol  Austria  in  his  heart  ;  and 
his  Ivxeellency  de  Grelle  Rogier,  the  Ivnvoy  of  Bel- 
gium, the  hospitable  and  prudent ;  and  Baron  d' Aguiar 
d'A.ndrada,  who  was  depressed  by  the  misfortunes  of 
his  old  friend  and  master,  the  ex-hhnperor  of  Brazil ; 
and  the  ICnvoy  and  Minister  Plenipotentiary'  of  Spain, 
Senhor  Meiidez  \'igo,  the  conrtl\'  and  loyal  Spaniard  ; 
and  Monsieur  A.  Billot,  who  carried  with  him  as  Ivnvoy 
the  spirit  and  energy  of  the  P'reiich  Republic  ;  and  the 
Count  Collobiano,  who  represented  Italy,  the  father- 
land of  the  Dowager-Queen  Maria  Pia,  for  which  she 
has  an  undying  afiection  ;  and  the  typical  Russian,  de 
T'onton  ;  and  Steenbock,  the  social  Swede  ;  and  the 
musical  Rosty,  Secretary  of  the  Austrian  Legation  ; 
and  Polo  de  Barnabe,  the  Spanish  Secretary  ;  and  now 
and  then  Chevalier  Cotta.  Secretary  of  the  Italian 
Legation.  In  the  absence  of  Sir  George  Petre,  Sir 
George  Bonham,  the  stalely  and  prudent  and  diplo- 


286  A  YIIAF<  IN  POKTUGAL. 

malic,  represented  tlie  f^ovcrninent  of  Great  Britain. 
And  these  ^vere  the  official  associates  of  the  United 
States  Minister  to  Portui;al. 

In  a  year  passed  in  any  town  or  countn,'  one  always 
gathers  abont  him  a  group  upon  whom  he  depends  for 
the  friendly  intercourse  which  makes  life  tolerable.  I 
recall  them  all — my  official  companions:  Wilbor,  the 
\'ice-Con>ul  and  C7!<7>Xi\  who  had  preserved  his  fidelity 
and  his  mother  toni^iie  durin<^  nearly  twenty  years' 
residence  in  I,is])on  ;  and  Ranujs,  the  faithful  old  mes- 
sen;^^er  of  the  Le;-;ation,  who  had  never  spoiled  his 
I'orlns^uesi-  by  ;ui  infii-.ii)ii  of  Ivn^lish  ;  and  De  Mattos, 
the  inlerpreler,  the  Anu.ric.'.n  cili/L'n  who  live<l  with 
and  Io\'ed  Abraham  Linc<ihi,  — and  the  aid  the>'  ren- 
dered me  in  the  intricate  duties  of  my  office.  And 
among  the  outside  companions  of  my  daily  walks  I  can 
never  forget  the  venerable  banker,  George  Torlades 
O'Neill,  one  of  the  nuuiy  generations  who  have  occu- 
])ied  the  old  banking  liouse,  the  rei>resentative  of  Tor- 
hules,  whose  din^y  and  well-worn  (juarters  remind  one 
of  the  Cheeryble  linjlhers.  and  whose  appreciation  of 
Spanish  ballads,  which  he  repeated  with  great  spirit, 
gave  a  peculiar  lu>tre  to  his  fine  accomplishments  and 
his  strong  moral  (lualilies.  The  rare  O'Neill,  with  his 
lo(jse-fitting  garments,  and  his  (piaint  office,  and  his 
glass (jf  Copenhagen,  and  his  six  miles  of  a  morning  on 
his  favorite  little  mare,  and  his  fine  varieties  of  port 
wine  which  he  gathered  up  for  his  purchasers  in  I'oston, 
and  his  integrity  and  his  beaming  eye  and  noble  head 
and  warm  heart, — he  alom-  would  make  TJ^boii  a  spot 
to  be  remembeix-d  by  all  whom  he  lo\x-d.  With  him 
let  me  count  also  the  son  of  New  Hampshire,  the  Union 
soldier,  the  genial  and  warm-hearled  Alexander,  whose 


LISBON.  287 

hospitality  rounded  out  many  a  leisure  day,  and  re- 
called the  scenes  which  every  New-Englander  loves, 
and  made  the  place  American. 

And  now  as  I  leave  Portugal  I  look  back  on  her  civil 
institutions  with  a  deepened  interest,  as  I  do  upon  her 
hills  and  dales  and  mountains  and  rivers.     The  future 
of  Portugal  is  a  most  interesting  problem.     Small  in 
tciTitor\-,  without  large  manufactures,  with  the  simplest 
agricnlture,  she  maintains  her  individuality  ])y  every 
measnre  that  constitutes  nationality.     Lying  along  the 
Athintic  Ocean  oti  the  western  shore  of  ICurope,  where 
the  seas  are  the  most  peaceful,  and  the  gales  are  the 
mildest,  and  the  air  the  s(»ftest,  she  has  prc^ers'ed  her 
independent  character  against  a  long  succession  of  wars 
and  tunuihs,  and  has  kept  her  tongue  pure  in  spite  of 
the  influence  of  the  powerful  nationality  which  liounds 
her   on  the  east.     Her  i>resent  repose   is  impressive. 
While  civil  commotions  disturb  so  many  of  her  sister 
nationalities,  and  the  great  questionsof  popular  welfare 
and  labor  and  civil  right  and  the  distril)ution  of  power 
are  discussed  throughout  the  world,  she  preser\-es  her 
aiitonomy  appareiuly  undisturbed  In'  any  of  the  great 
social  problems  which  arc  discussed  by  other  peoples 
on  both  hemispheres.     Her  government,   which   is  a 
constituticMial    monarchy,  and  possesses  all   power  to 
protect  her  properly,  to  consolidate  her  institutions,  to 
secure    the    holders   of  her   great    debt,    has    laid    the 
responsibility  of  her  civil  organization  on  a  ministry 
.selected  from  the  people.     The  free<l(jm  of  the   Portu- 
guese subject  can  be  c<)mi).iie(l   favorably  with  that  of 
the  American  citi/en.     The  bonds  which  bind  the  peo- 
ple to  the  throne  are  felt  in  every  walk   in  life.      And 
when   the   doctrines  of  popular  government   are   au- 


288  A  YIIAW  IN  I'OHTL'GAL 

iiouuccd  it  is  fouiul  that  all  the  privileges  contained  in 
tluisc  doctrines  arc  already  in  operation.  When  a  bril- 
liant scholar  iji  Oporto  presents  his  republican  views, 
and  a  brilliant  journal  in  Lisbon  makes  a  cordial 
resj)onse,  it  apjK'ars  on  examination  tliat  these  views 
have  already  occupied  the  ])ob!tical  s(;il  of  tlie  kingdom. 
Xowhere  is  the  jnes^ure  of  royalty  felt  ;  but  one  of  the 
glories  of  the  kingdom  in  the  eyes  r»f  the  |»eople  is  the 
J  (reservation  of  that  ancient  ceieinony  uhicli  ^'.ivi-rt 
giace  and  b<anty  to  her  government,  and  is  I'wv.  (roiu 
itidications  of  tyranny  and  ojjpression.  I  douI)t  if  any 
throne  stands  s<>  near  the  peo])le  as  does  that  once 
occupie<l  by  Dom  I'ernando  :uid  1  )om  Litis,  and  now 
graced  b)'  Dom  Carlos  and  I'rinecss  Amelie,  'I'his. 
inlimate  and  pcaciful  lelation  was  increased  when 
l'oiln;.',al  «.anci^;cd  bom  ju-r  st'iiniy  peiio(l.  and  the 
reign  of  Dom  I'ernando  commenced  with  its  industrial 
imiffovemeuts.  Tlien  her  territory  became  ititersectcd 
by  good  roads  and  well-organized  railways.  Attention 
was  turned  to  popular  education.  A  government  which 
had  foinid  refuge  in  another  hemisphere  returned  to  its 
legitimate  W(;rk  ;  and  the  pecjj)]e  went  with  it.  A  daJi- 
gerous  f;r  an  uncomfortable  habitaticju  is  generrdly 
abandoned.  A  sinking  ship  is  alw.iys  deserted.  The 
discontented  usually  flee  from  the  cause  of  their  dis- 
content. 'J'he  I'oilugncse  seldom  cmi^^rate,  'JMie  at- 
tachment they  feel  j'or  their  <nvn  land  kecj)s  tlicm  at 
hoine  ;  and  that  home  furnishes  them  the  means  of 
.subsistence  .and  (on  fori. 

Ihil  how  about  a  I'ortuguese  Republic?  To  a  close 
observer  the  organization  of  a  republic  in  I'ortugal 
wotdd  api>ear  to  be  qnile  dillicult.  In  fact,  many  Por- 
tuguese themselves  declare  that  but  for  the  existeucc 


LISBON.  289 

of  Spain  on  their  borders  the  question  of  a  republic 
would  not  be  raised  ;  and  that  the  republican  agitation 
in  Spain  is  a  warning  and  a  lesson  to  Tortugal.     While 
there  are  those,  moreover,  who  would  ai)ply  the  prin- 
ciples of  i)opular  government  to  this  compact  and  well- 
organi/.ed    monarchy,    a   monarchy    which    has  been 
called  a  "Monarchical  Republic,"  the  great  mass  of 
the    inhnbilants   of  city    and    country    lejoiee    in    the 
cxisleuce  of  prace,    and   h;ive  been   taught  to  believe 
tliiil  domestic  coiilroversy  means  cruel  and  bloody  war. 
The  strife  in  Portugal  has  been  thus  far  a  strife  for  the 
succession  ;  and  in  this  strife  the  i)eoi)le  have  "  waded 
through  seas  of  blood  "  imlil  they  desire  otdy  peace 
with   their  rights.     And    this   they  tl:iuk  they   have. 
Tile  si)iiit  of  the  main  body  of  the  army  is  loyal,  even 
where  it  is  uneasy.     Of  the  thirty-three  thotisand  in- 
fantry, cavalry,  and  arlillety,  any  feeling  of  dissatisfac- 
tion  has   never   yet   developed    into    an   open    revolt. 
And  whenever  a    proposition   has  gone  from  an  am- 
bitious advocate  of  republican  doctrines  to  the  soldiers, 
the  result  has  been  a  slight  and  imimportant  discussion 
rather   than    any    organized    action.      In    Lisbon   and 
Oporto  there  are  a  few  advocates  of  republican  theories 
of  government  who  are  inclined  to  believe  all  causes  of 
complaint  can  be  removed  by  the  delivery  of  the  ma- 
chinery into  the  hands  of  the  people  more  eniphatically 
than  is  now  done.      T.ut  the  jH'ople  are  thus  fir  content. 
They  have  all  the  p<iw<T  they  «le.ire.     And  an  uprising 
is  m<»re  likely  to  be  a  distuibance  than  a  revolution. 

In  this  ancient  kingdom  ample  provision  is  made  for 

the  aduHuistration  of  law.     The  judges  are  aj)pointed 

f(;r   life.       The    judiciary   consists    of   tribtmals   with 

elected  judges,  justices  (^f  the  peace,  and  intermediary 

I,} 


290  A  YRAR  IN  V(jUT\]C,M. 

tribunals.  There  are  two  Courts  of  Appeal  and  a  Su- 
j)renie  Court,  one  hundred  and  forty-two  tribunals  of 
the  first  instance,  two  hundred  and  ei<;hty-six  inter- 
mediary, ei;;ht  Innidred  justices,  and  three  thousand 
nine  hundred  elected  jud;^'es.  'Hic  juries  have  judicial 
jKJwers.  The  courts  are  opvu  to  all.  'I'lie  pn  ss  is  free, 
wilhout  liiiiilation  ;  domicile  i  ■<  iii\io]abIc  ;  no  person 
can  })(■  iinpiisoned  exicpt  by  due  fonn  of  huv.  The 
Roman  Catholic  religion  is  rec<),i;ni/ed  !)>•  the  c^hruler 
as  the  reli;,d(jn  of  the  state,  while  rclit;ious  freedom  is 
universal. 

Law,  literature,  atid  relij;ion  in  I'ortuv^al  are  sufTi- 
cicnt  for  the  wants  of  the  co'nmunity,  aiidarc  recognized 
as  tile  firm  foundation  of  an  inlelli:^a-nt  society.  While 
all  annuid  are  the  nionuni'.nts  of  the  past  which  remind 
the  peo])le  of  the  old  ^lory  of  the  kiii.;;<lom,  I  'duri-h 
its  mem<jries  as  I  do  thai,  of  the  pictiux's  of  the  old 
masters. 

Tile  territorial  possessions  of  Portui^al  are  great. 
Aloni;  the  shore  of  ICastern  Africa  and  the  streams  that 
run  into  the  Indian  (\-can  she  still  holds  mo^t  valuable 
territory.  Western  Africa  is  a  tract  of  great  extent, 
offering  her  pro'lucls  to  e\'ery  market,  and  destined  to 
becfjiiu-  one  oftlie  most  iii(ru-.lrious  and  iiinu'iili.'d  ])or- 
tions  of  the  y.lobt;,  -ih  rommerce  advance^  and  lh<.'  <Iarl; 
continent  is  orcu])ief1  by  civ'ili/ed  races,  In  tlif  islan<ls 
of  tin.'  se.'i  !'oitu^',al  has  ii;.;hls  which  cannot  be  easily 
in\'aded.  She  is  like  the  owner  of  hirge  possessions, 
of  wild  lands,  waiting  for  the  inevitable  adv.ance  of 
civilization.  To  this  may  U:.  attributed  the  extraordi- 
nary f:if-t  ()i  th"  valti"  fjf  h<  r  Unvr-^  in  the  j^r'-at  uvnwy 
markets,  'ii/e  premimn  they  tisnally  bear  indicates 
confi<lenee    in    the    aecaim  ilation    <jf    wealth     l>ehind 


LISBON.  291 

thcni ;  and  the  former  owner  of  Brazil,  with  her 
cnormons  wealth,  and  of  the  riclKS  of  the  Kast  Indies, 
may  rest  iti  patience  while  a  l)iisy  world  presses  upon 
her  inioccupied  territory  in  Africa. 

It  seems  to  he    tlie   i)art  of  diplomatic  wisdom    for 
I'"n;^dand  to  pacify  I'oittiK'nl.  .'iiid  hrin^'  her  into  a  close 
alliance  once  more.      In  tlx-  Ii.mmIs  of  hjiy^laiid  rests  all 
the  commerce  of  l'oilnj.'al,  wlio-^c  market  for  her  nianti- 
faclnres   she   can    hardly    afford  to  lose.     A   peaceful 
adjustment  of  the  African  land  ([ueslion  ;  an  aj;reement 
with  ret;:ard  to  the  navigation  of  Portuj^uesc  rivers  in 
Africa ;   a  .satisfactory   tariff  on   goods  crossing    Por- 
tuguese territory  ;    the   construction  of  railways   and 
telegraphs  on  all  the  territories — once  secured  hy  the 
two  nation''  will   luidonlitcdl)    i)iomote  lasting  ]K';icc. 
An  alliance   like  this  expands  the  jiower  of  one  and 
gives  vital  force  to  the  other.     Antl  as  Ivngland  in  all 
her  national   itilereourse   recognizes  the   value  of  her 
trade,  and  always  treats  and  fights  for  her  prosperity, 
it  is  probable  that  the  present  disturbance  may  result 
in  a  combination  advamageous  to  British  connnerce, 
the  British  holder  of  Portuguese  securities,  and  to  the 
confirmation  of  the  ])ower  of  the  Bragan/.as  in  Portugal. 
In   the  dispute  which  arose  between    Portugal  and 
JCngland  (Acr  the  Ivist  Afiica  tirrilory,  Sciihor  I'arros 
domes  expressid    th'-    strong    ^-iiiiimciil   of   Portugal 
with   regard  to  lur  ancient   l)o.■,^e^^ions.     Loid  Salis- 
bury had  instructed  the  British  Minister.  Mr.  Petre,  to 
"  inform   hi'-   Isxcellciicy   that   lur  M;ijcst>  's  (iovern- 
ment  rccogni/e  au  llie  I'ppcr  Z.Mnbf/i  the  exi-^tcnre  of 
]'<n\\y/,\\'-  '■  '/*  f'Jip.'ition  of  T*  ic  and  Ziunbo,  but  that 
they  h.ive  n<;  knowle<lge  of  llu-  o<rnp:(lioii  of  any  other 
place  or  district."     To  this  the   Portuguese   Minibter 


292  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL. 

for  Foreign  AfTairs  replied  at  considerable  length,  and 
in  his  coninninication  said  : 

"  Portugal,  who  coiKinered  India  and  created  Brazil, 
lias  a  prist  exceeded  by  no  olhc  nation.  That  past 
^ives  litr  the  ri^ht  to  insure  her  hoj)c-s  of  a  brilliant 
j)(;ii<)d  for  her  nalioiialily,  Africa  alone  crui  guarantee 
it  to  her.  When  she  defends  her  right  on  that  conti- 
nent, she  defends  her  future." 

To  tliih  proud  and  touching  appeal  Lord  vSalisbury 
replied  : 

"  Researches  have  been  made  in  this  coiuitr>-,  but 
hitherlo  without  success,  for  the  ])urpose  of  recovering 
the  text  of  the  treaty  with  the   ICniperor  of  Mononio- 
tapa.  on  which  such  large  consequences  are  based.     In 
the  absence  of  this  docu'.nentary  confirmation  we  have 
at  present  no  ground  for  believing  that  the  ICmperor 
himself  possessed  or  affected  to  convey  the  extensive 
territories  which  he  is  assumed  to  have  surrendered  on 
that  Occasion.     Still  less  importance  can  be  attached  to 
the  forts  whose  "  well-preserved  ruins'  have  been  dis- 
covered by   recent  explorers.     They   are  believed   by 
archaeologists  to  belong  rather  to  the  begituu'ng  (jf  the 
sixteenth  than  to  the  seventeenth  century  ;  but  what- 
ever their  ori;.^in,   or  the  date  <^f    their  eonstruction, 
♦heir  existence   in  a   condition  oi  well-i)reserved  ruin 
will   hardly  contribute  much   to   the  estrd)lishment  of 
the  sovereignty  of  Portugal.      Innls  maintained   in  a 
condition   of  efliciency  are  undoid)ledly  a  conclusive 
testimony  that  the  territory  on  which  they  stand  is  in 
the  military  f)CCUi)atioii  and  vuuler  the  effective  domin- 
i(;n  of  the  ix)\ver  to  which    they   beUjug.     IJut    forts 
which  are  in  ruins  and  which  have  neither  been  recon- 
structed nor  replaced,  can  only  prove,  if  they  prove 


LISBON.  293 

anything:,  that  so  far  as  that  tcrritor>'  is  concerned,  the 
domination  of  which  they  were  the  instrument  and  the 
guarantee  is  in  ruins  also. 

"  I  do  not  propose  to  enter  furth .-r  into  the  archx- 
ological  argument   for  the  claims  (>(  Portugal,  which 
are  advanced  in  the  despatch  «)f  Seidjor  Itarros  Gomes, 
because  in  the  judgment  of  Her  Mrdesty's  Government 
they  are  not  relevant  to  the  contention  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  which  they  have  been  adduced.     The  con- 
troversy nuist  be  decided  on  other  grounds.     The  fact 
of  essential  importance  is  that  the  territory  hi  question  is 
not  the  effective  government  or  occui)ation  of  Portugal, 
and  that  if  it  ever  was  so.  Which  is  very  doubtful,  that 
occupation  has  ceased  during  an  interval  of  more  tlum 
two  centuries.      During  the  whole  of  that  period  the 
Goverinnent  of  Portugal   has  made  no  attemjU  either 
to  govern   or  civilize  or  colonize  the  vast  regions  to 
which  a  claim  is  now  advanceil  ;  and  it  may  be  said, 
with  respect  to  a  ver\'  large  portion  of  them,  that  no 
Portuguese  authority  has  ever  attempted  their  exi)lora- 
tion.     The  practical  attention  of  that  Goverinnent  has 
(;nly  been   drawn  to  them    at   last    by   the  successful 
efforts  of  British   travelIer^,  and   British  settlers.     The 
Portuguese  authorities  during  that  long  interval  have 
made  no  offer  to  establish  in  them  eveti  the  semblance 
of  an  effective  government  or  to  connneiice  the  restora- 
tion of  their  alleged  dominion,  even  by  military  expe- 
ditions, mitil    they   were    slinuilated    to    do  so  by   the 
probability  that  the  work  of  colonizing  and  civilizi'ig 
them   would    fall   to   the   advancing   stream   of  British 
emigration.       It   is  not,    indeed,    required   by   interna- 
tional law  that  the  whole  extent  of  .i  country  occupied 
by  a  civilized  power  should  be  reclaimed  from  burbur- 


29-1  A  YHAK  IN  PORTUGAL. 

ism  at  once  :  time  is  iicccssiiry  for  the  full  completion 
of  a  process  which  depends  u\Kni  the  <;radual  increase 
of  ^%•ea]lh  and  populalic^i  ;  bnt  on  the  other  hand  no 
paper  annexation  of  territory  can  pretend  to  any  valid- 
ity as  a  bar  to  the  enterprise  of  other  nations,  if  it  lias 
never  lhroui;h  vast  periods  of  time  been  accompanied 
by  any  indication  of  an  intention  to  njake  the  occnjia- 
tion  a  reality,  and  has  liecn  snlTercd  to  be  iiieOlctive 
and  unused  for  centuries.  I  ler  Majesty's  (rt)vernment 
are  tuiable  to  admit  that  tlie  liistorical  ct)nsiderali()ns 
advanced  by  vSenhor  Harros  Gomes  can  invalidate  the 
rights  wliich  British  traders  and  missionaries  have  ac- 
<]uired  by  settlement  in  the  valleys  of  Nyassa  and  the 
vShira,  nor  can  they  aOect  the  lawfulness  of  the  protec- 
tion whicli  has  beun  lone  -xlended  by  Great  Britain  to 
Lobenj^ada,  and  more  recently  to  the  Mahololos. 

"  Her  Majest>-'s  Government,  therefore,  camiot  buc 
look  uiH)n  any  attempt  to  exercise  Portui^uese  dominion 
over  the  Ikitish  .settlements  in  the  district  of  Shira  aufl 
Lake  Nyassa,  or  over  any  tribes  which  are  under  I'ritish 
I)rolLC-lion,  as  an  invasion  of  her  Majesty's  rij^hts." 

Tlie  demand  tliat  Serpa  Pinto,  who  had  command  of 
the  Portuguese  forces  in  that  region  should  be  with- 
drawn, having  been  enforced  by  Ivngland,  and  the  de- 
u'.and  of  Portugal  that  slie  would  place  herself  under 
the  shelter  of  the  ])rovisions  laid  down  in  Article  12  of 
the  General  Act  of  Berlin,  providing  for  mediation  or 
arbitration  in  cases  of  dispute,  having  been  denied  by 
the  British  Foreign  Ofl'ice,  his  Majesty's  government 
"reserving  in  everyway  the  rights  of  the  Crown  of 
Portugal  to  tlie  African  regions  in  question,"  sent  the 
orders  retiuircd  by  Gre.it  Britain  to  the  Governor-Gen- 
eral of  Mozambicjue.     And  so  the  contest  ended. 


LISBON.  295 

In  this  connection  the  views  of  the  Portnj^e^e  peo- 
ple with  regard  to  British  dii>loraacy  in  Kasteni  Africa 
arc  vahiablc — and  if  not  vahiablc.  are  entitled  to  consid- 
eration as  an  illustration  of  the  popular  inclination  on 
(luestions  of  civilization  and  refonn.  The  document  I 
now  ({note  was  addressed  on.  Xovenibcr  20,  iS()o,  to 
the  i;()vennnent  by  the  (ieoi;raphical  Society,  a  most 
respectable  body,  who  arc  interested  in  the  welfare  and 
prosperity  of  the  kini^doui.  The  address  nndoubt- 
edly  re])resents  the  pojjular  feeling  on  African  civiliza- 
tion. 

"  J/o/is/cnr  /(•  .Uifi/s/rc  : 

"  The  Lisbon  Geographical  vSociety  could  not  remain 
indifferent  to  the  events  taking  place  in  ICastern  .-Vfrica. 
They  have  watched  them  with  close  attention  and  the 
particular  interest  which  they  owe  to  their  social  mis- 
sion and  likewise  to  the  encouragement  they  have 
received  from  the  government  of  this  country.  They 
therefore  come  forward  to-day,  to  place  in  your  hand 
tlie  expression  of  tlieir  deep  regret  and  of  their  indig- 
nation regarding  a  fact  which  they  consider  offensive 
and  injurions  to  the  i)rinciples  of  mankind,  of  civili/.a- 
tion  and  law,  which  onght  to  govern  the  influenee,  the 
action,  and  the  relations  of  civilized  nations  in  Africa 
between  themselves  or  with  the  nati\-e  tribes.  The 
fict  they  allnde  to  is  particularly  serious,  as  it  implies 
the  violation  of  an  intenuitional  agreement  to  which 
Portugal  has  loyally  adhered. 

"  As  you  are  aware,  Monsienr  le  Ministre,  the  dis- 
coverv  of  important  gold  mines  north  of  the  I.impopo, 
the  advantages  and  ]ironts  to  be  derived  on  certain 
markets  from  the  mining  concession>  so  easih- extorted 


296  A  Y1:AK  in  I'ORTMGAI.. 

by  cuiniin^  luivcnlurcrs  from  the  suvaj^e  chiefs  of 
African  tribes,  have  attracted  a  number  of  travellers 
and  explorers  to  the  country  known  as  Metabeleland. 

'■  Several  of  these  travellers  succeeded  in  18S7  in  ob- 
t:iinin<;  from  the  principal  chief  of  that  tril)e  (Loben- 
gula)  a  contract  grantiiig  them  the  sole  right  of  work- 
ing the  gold  mines  situated  not  only  in  his  own  country 
or  territories,  and  in  C('untry  or  territories  lying  under 
his  sway.  Init  also  in  neighboring  territories.  What 
Lobengida  was  to  get  in  exchange  for  this  singular 
concession  no  one  susjvcteil  for  a  l(Mig  time.  It  was 
merely  stated  that  the  lessees  were  to  pay  him  a  certain 
royally  payable  yearly,  but  that  the  validity  of  the 
concession  was  dej)endent  up.')n  the  reception  by  the 
chief  of  a  certain  (piantity  of  arms  and  amnuniition 
with  which  the  lessees  were  to  supply  him.  The  exis- 
tence of  the  latter  clause  was  removed  in  the  Transvaal 
and  the  Hritish  Cape  Colony,  bu:  it  is  only  recently 
and  from  what  transpired  in  a  debate  at  the  Cape  Par- 
liament that  it  has  become  an  ascertained  fact — a  fact 
which  all  reasonable  and  well-niinded  authorities  on 
African  (juestions  had  hitherto  declined  to  believe. 

"  Mr.  Merriman,  Member  of  the  Cape  Parliament, 
cpiestioning  the  Cape  G(jvernment.  pointed  out  that 
the  lessees  of  the  Metabeleland  gold  mines  had  for- 
warded to  Lobengula  1,000  Martini-Henry  rifles,  with 
their  bayonets,  and  T,(y>,ooo  cartridges,  and  that  the 
weajHons  had  been  conveyed  in  transit  through  Cape 
Colony  in  spite  of  the  special  laws  governing  the  im- 
portation of  firearms  and  war  ammunitittn. 

"  The  first  reply  made  by  the  Prime  Minister.  Sir 
Gordon  Sprigg.  clearly  shows  that  the  minister  did  not 
believe  such  a  report.     He  j)romised,  however,  to  make 


LISBON.  297 

immediate  inquiries,  and  on  the  following  day  declared 
to  the  Chamber  tliat  the  assertion  was  well  founded. 

"  He  related  the  circumstances  in  detail,  and  added 
that  he  had  thout^ht  fit  to  blame  the  conduct  of  one  of 
the  highest  officials  of  the  Colony,  who,  knowing  that 
the  weapons  had  l^een  introduced  in  the  ccnuitr\-,  had 
not  informed  the  Colonial  Govenunent  of  the  fact. 
The  truth  is  that  from  January  to  March  of  that  year, 
i.ooo  Martini-Henry  rifles  had  passed  in  transit  with 
3(>(^.(>x)  cartridges  through  Cape  Colony.  They  had 
been  taken  from  the  Cu^Unu-l louse  and  forwarded  by 
the  agents  of  the  MelabcleLuul  mine  lessees.  The 
Colonial  authorities  after  some  hesitation  had  at  last 
assented  to  the  arms  leaving  Kimberly  and  being  con- 
veyed across  the  frontier  on  the  strength  of  an  order 
.signed  by  vSir  vSidney  vShii)part,  High  Conunissioner  in 
Hritisli  liechuanalaiul,  the  represenlatixe  of  the  actual 
Government  of  Great  I>ritain,  toward  which  he  was 
solely  responsible  for  all  measures  taken  by  him. 

"  The  above-mentioned  debate  and  the  discussion 
which  followed  in  the  newspapers  cleared  all  doubts  as 
to  the  fact  of  i  .c  >o  rifles  and  300,000  cartridges  having 
l)een  sent  to  Matabeleland  and  supplied  to  Lobengula. 
Now  the  Matal)cles  are  considered  bv  the  best-informed 
travellers  as  the  most  (piarrelsome,  barbarous,  atul 
sanguinary  tribe  throughout  Southeast  Africa.  This 
tribe  is  not  composed  of  natives  of  the  district  it  occu- 
pies. It  coiKpiered  it  by  exterminating  the  original 
population  in  iS;^;,  when  the  nott)rious  Mu/.ilikatse, 
routed  by  the  Boers,  crossed  the  I,impn])o  and  went  to 
settle  in  Matabeleland  with  his  Zulus.  .Succeeding 
Mu/.ilikalse,  Lobengula  followed  in  his  footsteps  by 
remaining  faithful  to  the  bU)ody  antl  tyrannical  tradi- 


2y.s  A  yi;an  in  I'oRriKiAi.. 

tiotis  of  his  race,  iiivadiuj^  and  laying  waste  the  terri- 
tories i)f  iiciglihoring  tribes,  stripping  the  latter  of  all 
their  va]uu1)lv.s.  reducing  them  to  slavcr>-,  spreading  on 
all  sides  terror  and  death. 

"  The  principal  \'icliHis  of  such  a  violent  policy  have 
been  the  natives  of  Mashonaland  who  reside  northward. 
This  pjaceful  and  industrious  jKjpulation,  which  have 
long  maintained  the  relation  of  friendly  vassals  to  the 
I'ortnguese  autlujiitirs  and  seltkis  of  the  Zniube/.i,  are 
cruelly  jferscMited  and  constantly  assaulted  by  the 
Matabclcs,  who  seek  to  con(pur  and  annihilate  Ihent, 
aUIiou;.',h  tlii'y  lia\e  not  _\ct  (■onipliltiv  suct'ei-ded  in 
their  allenipt. 

'I'lie  ciuel'iy  of  the  Malabei<s  has  ]kv\\  recently 
lMoii}.;ht  into  stiong  i\'iiif  by  the  I'.isliop  ol' I'.loemfon- 
tain,  an  antlioiity  whom  no  one  will  gainsay.  Return- 
ing in  iSSS  from  an  excursion  in  that  eountry,  the  noble 
prelate,  still  smarting  under  the  impression  of  the 
barbarous  acts  he  had  witnessed,  delivered  in  a  public 
meeting  at  X'riburg  in  I'ritish  I'echuanaland  the  fol- 
lowing words  wliich  Mr.  Merriman  ([notes  in  one  of 
his  Parliamentary  sjieeches  : 

■  "  '  One  thing  I  would  not  do  for  the  life  of  me  would 
be  to  h:md  a  gun  to  Lobengula  even  if  lie  were  to  ask 
me.  I  w^ndd  rather  sacrifice  the  lives  of  the  whole  of 
my  expedition  than  to  supply  firearms  to  a  Matabele, 
for  every  (Mie  should  know  that  in  the  hands  of  such  a 
tribe  rifles  would  only  be  used  for  the  purpose  of  mur- 
dering innocent  and  powerless  people.  The  man  who 
handed  ;i  rifle  to  tlu'  Matabclcs  wotiUl  have  cause  to 
repent  it  bitterl\'  in  this  world  and  the  next.  The 
U'eie  act  of  provi<ling  the  Matabeles  with  weapons  is 
.so  al)ominable  that  no  fiendish  cruelty  cotdd  siu  pass  it.' 


LISBON  i99 

"  Although  widely  known,  the  opinion  thus  expressed 
by  a  venerable  and  truthful  churchman  has  not  been 
able  to  i)revail  against  mercantile  self-interest  and 
greediness,  nor  to  prevent  an  luiglish  company  from 
providing  a  barbarous  and  bloodthirsty  people  with 
improved  firearms,  which  will  make  it  easy  for  them 
to  crush  and  destroy  in  complete  safety  the  peaceful 
tribes  living  in  the  neighl)orliO()d. 

"  But  this  is  not  all.  »Such  ati  outrage  on  civilization 
has  left  many  people  unmoved,  and  has  ev.-n  found 
iiKuiy  to  excuse  it  in  a  country  of  which  certain  insti- 
lulious  ami  seveial  ne\v.s]).ipeis  ]>eisisled,  and  still  i)er- 
sisl  with  all  their  might,  jigainst  all  truth  and  justice, 
in  denouncing  Portugal  as  a  country  which  reduces 
the  nativis  into  bondage  an<l  ill-treats  them. 

"  ( )l"  what  nsecotild  tlusc-arms  and  :immunilif)U  be  to 
Lobeiigula  ?  SiMvly  he  was  not  going  to  keep  thetn 
within  the  boxes  in  which  they  had  been  conveyed 
through  two  Ibilish  colonies,  nor  to  hang  up  and 
admire  as  harmless  works  of  art. 

"Several  I-jigiish  paper,s  acknowledge  that  this  dan- 
gerous and  formidable  ecpiipment  will  be  used  by  the 
Matabeles  to  achieve  the  con([uesl  of  the  Mashona  ter- 
ritories and  their  wealthy  mines,  and  to  hurry  into 
slavery  the  unfortunate  native  tribes,  who,  although 
mentioned  on  Ivnglish  maps  by  the  extraordinary  title 
of  '  Slaves  of  the  Matabeles/  have  not  been  entirely 
reduced  into  bondage  or  wiped  off  the  face  of  Al'rica  l>y 
means  of  the  simple  arrow  or  the  assegai. 

"Presumably  the  proud  and  savage  chief  will  en- 
deavor to  ju.stify  by  means  of  iron  and  fire  his  claims 
already  acknowledged  and  approved  by  Ibilish  diplo- 
macy, biit  which  are  wholly  unfounde<l  ami  denied  by 


300  A  Vr.AN  IN  I'ORTIJGAL 

more  llinn  onecijiiipelciil  aulliority,  and  which  aiiioutits 
t(j  sayiiij;  that  the  Urritory  of  the  Mashonas  Ijelougs  to 
Ih^  country  ^o\crncd  by  I^oljcii^uKi. 

"  Now  Maslioualaiid  is  a  traditional  portion  lujt  of  tlie 
territory  occupied  l)y  tlie  Mat;ibeles,  l)Utoftliose  which 
liaye  always  been  considered  as  within  the  sphere  and 
soverei};nty  of  the  Portn,i;u(.:si-,  a  ciicuin>.lance  wljich 
the  rortu;;uese  Ciovernnient  has  just  taken  care  to  i)ro- 
daim  by  the  fnial  ori^ani/.alion  of  the  Zinnbo  district. 

"Part  of  the  weapi»ns  handed  to  Lobengula  ini;^ht 
have  been  put  to  another  use  worthy  (;f  special  alten- 
tion  at  the  presc-nt  time,  and  in  the  face  of  the  interna- 
tional aj'.reement  in  f)pcration.  They  could  be  sold 
and  expoiled  by  I,oben;,',ula  in  the  Xorllu  rn  coinitries 
wluri-  tlie  Arab  sla\c  h'lnlers  would  ha\e  puichased  at 
lii;^h  ))rices  rifles  and  aninnniition  which  the  blockade 
of  the  eastern  coa^^t  i)i"i.\ented  them  from  oblaininjj; 
from  the  laUer  fpiarler.  'iMiis  view  of  the  matter  is 
jierfectly  rational.  Persons  of  e.\])erience  in  African 
ways  and  customs  well  know  how  easily  the  natives 
tra\el  tlirou.i;h  enormous  distances  to  exchan;^^!  their 
goods  aj^^ainst  other  goods  they  have  a  fancy  for  or  feel 
in  want  of. 

"  Neither  were  the  governments  which  had  agreed  to 
the  blockade  of  the  Ivistern  coast  unaware  of  this 
themselves.  This  is  ]>roved  by  the  fact  that  on  Novem- 
ber i6,  iSS.S.  the  J'witish  Minister  at  Lisbon  when  noti- 
fying to  our  government  the  intention  of  blockading 
the  Zanzibar  coast,  declared  that  the  I'ritish  and  (^er- 
mrui  governments  di<l  not  believe  in  the  efficaciousness 
of  such  a  measure  without  the  co ojxTation  of  Porlugrd 
and  the  simuUaneous  closing  of  the  Mo/,ambi<{ue  coast 
to  the  e.N])ortation  of  Mla\es  and   the  importation  of 


LISBON.  m 

arms  and  ammunition  with  which  the  Arab  dealers 
provide  themselves  for  the  expeditions  into  the  interior. 
The  Portuguese  govertiment  acceded  to  this.  Accord- 
ing to  a  decree  dated  December  6th,  they  ordered  the 
blockade  of  the  Porti^guese  coast  as  far  down  as  the 
District  of  I^orenco-Manjuez,  and  prohibited  the  intro- 
dn(>tioji  of  all  ammnniti(Mi  of  war  in  the  districts  of 
C;ipe  Iklgado,  Mo/.ainl);(iue,  Angoche,  (Juilimane. 
vSdfala,  and  Inhambane. 

"  What  a  singular  coincidence.  At  the  very  moment 
when  a  great  number  of  tliiefs.  our  frieJids  and  vassals, 
complained  of  being  witliont  arms  and  amnumition  for 
their  own  ])roU(>(ion  ru.d  the  lefpiirements  of  (.A'cry-day 
lift-  ;  at  the  very  moment  when  Ivngbsh  adventurers 
and  inlrignets  were  indueing  them  to  believe  that  we 
refuse<l  sui)i)lving  then>  with  such  arms  in  order  to 
render  them  defenceless  against  ourselves  (a  fact  of 
vvhieh  we  have  written  ])roofs  in  the  records  of  our 
Society)  ;  at  tliat  very  moment  l/)l)engida.  situated  at 
tlie  north  of  Inhambane,  was  re-eeiving  a  formidable 
amount  of  weapons  which  lu;  could  offer  to  the  slave 
dealers  and  wliieh  at  all  events  were  to  be  partly  used 
in  reducing  to  slavery  the  peaceful  and  industrious 
Mashonas. 

"If  this  cousigmnent  of  improved  fiiearms  in  the 
hands  of  a  greedy  and  barbarous  ehiefain  accustomed 
to  practise  the  horrible  slave-trade  had  been  made  with- 
out the  ai)proval  and  knowledge  of  a  highly  situated 
liritish  official,  one  could  at  the  most  but  deplore  the 
neglect  .and  shorlsiglUedness  of  the  Ihiti^^h  authorities 
and  the  blindness  inul  selfishness  of  a  mercantile  spec- 
ulation e:irried  <pn  in  \  iol.ilion  of  the  law,  I'ut:isilhas 
been  shown  and  proved  llial  the  highest  authority  of  a 


302  A  YtAR  IN  I'ORTUGAL 

couiilry  uiucli  prides  itself  upon  working  in  tlie  cause 
of  iiumkind  and  African  civilizali'jn  lias  been  consent- 
ing pari)-  to  such  a  sale  of  \veai)ons,  the  circumstance 
assiniKh  the  gravest  as])ecl  j>ossil)Ie  and  can  but  cause 
fcelingsof  sorrowful  suijm  ise  and  excite  the  most  melan- 
choly api.iivhcuNions, 

"Such  is  tilt  sentiment  of  rcs))cctful  but  firm  .and 
sincere  prot<.-.t  wlii'h  the  (ycogrrijdiical  Society  of 
IJiibon,  a  humble  ;in<l  lo)';tl  co  ojc'Lilor  in  th<,-  holy 
cau.c  of  Adicnn  civili/alion,  hut  (he  hoiioi  to  .submit 
to  l!)<'  «'\;iltcd  and  |i;ili  ioijc  jiiicniion  o|  tlic  I'oi  lii,i',iie',e 
(»o\'«i  niiK  lit  ;i-)  ii  jMc-.ciili  d  b)'  \oiir  )'',  y.(  elli.aic>', 
"  To  his  live  III  my  tit,-  Mi>iislir\ 
vj    till'  Mali  III'  ami    llir    C<)li>/i/f:s,"\ 

It  must  be  evident  to  the  reader  of  this  document 
that  the  rortuguese  :u\-  interested  in  the  elevation  of 
their  c<uuitry.  That  they  resent  any  insult  offered  it 
directl>'  or  indirectly  we  ha\-e  already  abundant  evi- 
dence. As  in  the  case  of  the  occupati<jn  of  Portuguese 
territ()r>'  in  Africa,  so  in  the  introduction  of  institutions 
repugnant  to  the  best  sentiments  of  the  country,  the 
j)rotest  is  strong  and  determined.  This  is  apparently 
the  character  of  tlie  i?""plc  who  hold  in  their  hands 
the  destinies  of  Portugal.  It  is  ivit  easy  to  tell  when 
this  determination  will  change.  Ihit  I  think  not  yet, 
'I'he  introduction  of  h"rench  I<ei)ublicanism  during  the 
Xrijioleonic  w;n^'  has  undotdiledly  had  .some  i-ffect  oil 
the  ]>o]'u]ar  mind  ;  and  this  dfrct  is  d'-moustr.alcd  by 
the  lib(  lal  spiiit  into  lln-  coiistitution  and  the  organ- 
i/.ati'jii  of  the  go\'enii!K-nl.  Theic  arc  those  who  think 
this  spirit  will  go  no  firtlu-r.  I'ait  there  are  tho.se  also 
who  can  see  in  their  minds'  eye  th<.-  King  Hying  acro.s.S 


LISBON.  303 

the  frontier,  and  the  sudden  organization  of  a  republic, 
with  a  l)l(>odles.s  revolution.  The  effect  of  the  French 
Rcpuhlio  on  the  governments  of  ICuroiK  is  destined  to 
be  gnat.  From  confusion  and  turtnoil  a  strong  and 
])')\verfiil  and  peacefnl  and  prospennis  nationality  has 
aii  .'11  vvliieh  attracts  the  attention  of  all  J-airope,  and 
will  one  day  exert  a  vast  innuenee  on  tlie  popidar 
mind.  Wlielher  the  existing  governments  can  resist 
this  infbKiue  lime  alone  ean  tell.  IJnt  whatever  may 
be  tin-  ic'.nit,  tlie  d;iy  is  l;ir  distant  wIk-II  the  <.ld 
mon;iiclii(  ■*  will  be  ti;iii,'.r<.t  iiicd,  .nid  the  old  liabiti  will 
beliiid  aside,  and  the  iuslilnlions  of  the  fathers  will  bo 
remodelled,  .and  the  civil  atuH^spheie  will  be  changed. 
When  the  floods  come  and  the  winds  blow,  the  fate  (jf 
the  n.itions  can  possibly  be  foretold.  Meanwhile  Portu- 
gal ;is  apolitical  institution  maintains  her  position. 

lUit  the  time  arrived  when  I  could  admire  and  specu- 
late on  Portugal  no  longer.  It  w.is  when  the  sun  was 
declining  across  the  wide  waters  of  the  river  that  I 
stcpi)ed  on  board  a  steam  tug  and  was  whirled  over 
the  wavy  stream  to  the  steamer  Lan/raiic,  in  which  we 
were  to  be  borne  to  Liverpool.  The  day  was  bright 
and  breezy,  the  little  tug  danced,  the  spray  washed 
and  wet  us,  and  we  clandx-red  up  tlie  side  of  the  great 
shij),  where  we  lay  for  an  hour  signalling  our  farewells 
to  a  few  kind  friends.  And  then  .is  the  sun  went  down 
we  i)assed  the  i)ictures<iue  and  dij^nified  and  hoary 
Pclem,  .and  r.an  along  the  heights  of  Cinlra,  and 
watched  the  lights  as  they  came  out  in  the  evening 
daikness,  and  wondered  whi<  h  w.is  Montserr.ate  .and 
which  the  "Lawrence"  and  which  the  Onedes,  and 
saw  the  r.ay  wdiieli  shot  from  the  height  and  knew 
that  this  was  the  last  to  us  of   Pciia,  the  charming 


304  A  YEAR  IN  PORTUGAL 

old  home  of  Doiii  I'crnando  and  his  Countess.  As  we 
skirted  along  the  coast  the  mysteries  of  the  scenery 
increased  in  the  darkness,  we  began  to  calculate  how 
many  hours  it  would  be  before  we  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  Dourc)  and  the  Cape  Finisterre,  and  we  were 
soon  on  our  way  on  the  trackless  sea  with  the  stars 
ab(n-e  us  and  nothing  around  us  but  the  splashing 
waters.  The  morning  came,  and  with  it  the  conscious- 
ness that  we  were  traversing  the  Bay  of  Biscay  and 
were  well  on  our  voyage.  The  wild  and  stormy  Bay 
was  in  its  gentlest  mood,  Tlie  surface  of  the  sea  was 
.sparkling  with  the  most  cheery  and  brilliant  light,  as 
the  West  wind  dro\-c  over  it  and  warmed  and  lulled  us 
into  .security  in  that  luMiie  of  wild  storms  and  tem- 
I)estn')US  waves,  I  looked  for  the  "  vivid  lightning  " 
and  listened  lor  tin-  "  dieadful  thunder  "  and  waited 
for  the  rain  which  "a  deluge  poured,"  and  called  to 
my  mind  the  spirited  voice  of  the  great  Braham  as  he 
.sang  that  inspiring  song  which  won  from  the  Italians 
of  his  day  the  tribute,  'Won  c  ^  icitofc  in  Italia  conic 
Jh-a/iaiii,"  .and  rcnised  the  ancient  audience  ,  to  a  stormy 
wildness.  W'e  crossed  the  Bay  while  it  was  in  gentle 
mood  mid  steamed  on  day  and  night  C(jmi):'.ni(jnless 
and  alone,  until  far  away  we  discerned  the  Scilly  Isles 
enveloped  in  fog  and  assuring  us  that  we  were  in  a 
known  region  <jf  the  earth  and  bound  up  the  Channel 
for  Liverpool,  Day  was  far  s])ent  v.hen  we  sailed  up 
the  .Mersey  and  found  ourselves  welcomed  by  the  ofii- 
cers  of  the  port,  who  had  been  n.otified  of  our  coming, 
and  who  took  good  care  for  the  storage  of  our  luggage, 
and  directed  us  to  the  hotel  which  was  to  shelter  us 
tnitil  the  next  day,  when  we  were  to  .sail  for  Boston  on 
the  "ood  steamer  Scvt/iia. 


BOSTON.  305 

The  final  voyage  was  bright  and  sparkling.     We 
sauntered  over  a  smooth  sea  into  the  harbor  of  Queens- 
town  to  take  the  mails  and  pick  up  a  passenger  or 
two,  and   trade   with   the   agile  girls  who  sat  in  the 
bight  of  a  rope  as  they  were  huistcd  up  the  side  to  sell 
their  pipes   and   lace  and   linen,  and  to  admire  their 
agility  and  courage.     And  when  the  mails  were  all  on 
board  and  the  trafilc  all  over  we  steamed  out  into  the 
wide  ocean  and  were  soon  lost  to  all  the  world.     Day 
after  day  the  tireless  flocks  of  gulls  followed  in  our 
wake,  resting  at  inter\'als  on  the  bosom  of  the  waters, 
and  rising  in  sweeping   flight  to  settle  in  a  hurrying 
crowd  upon  a  morsel  of  food  thrown  from  the  ship. 
The  sea  was  wintry — so  said  the  captain.     The  bright 
little  Irish  girl,   who    was   bound   to  Salem,  tried  in 
vain  to  cheer  us — the  sea  was  at  times  too  nuich  f(jr  us. 
My  mercantile   friend    from    Boston   laughed   evening 
after    evening    at    my    vain    attempts    to    l)eat    him 
at  euchre.     The  solenui  form  of  Mr,   Leslie  Stephen 
paced  nj)  and  down,  or  fi)re  and  aft,  the  deck,  giving 
assent  now  and  then  to  some  wise  remark   upon  the 
weather  or  on  some  well  known  hero  in  history.     The 
.second-cabin  passengers  cast  longing  ,<';lances  over  the 
ropes    upon  the  scattered  crowd  who  ruled   in   some- 
what melancholy  mood  the  privileged  and  aristocratic 
planks  of  tlic  ship,  until  the  divided  connnunily  was 
thrown  into  one  by  that   most  tragic  of  all  events  at 
sea,  the  plunge  of  a  passenger  into  the  seething  waters, 
A  ])0(jr  bewildered  waif,  cra/ed  by  the  sorrows  of  life, 
or  heartbroken  by   the  thouv;ht  of  those  he  had  left 
behind,  or  maddened  by  drink,  suddenly  tore  himself 
from  his  companions  and  threw  himself  into  the  sea. 
The  horror-stricken   men  and  passengers  gathered  at 


306  A  YliAK  IN  TORTUGAL. 

llic  sides  of  the  ship  ;nul  strained  their  eyes  to  catch 
sight  of  that  desperate  mortal  whom  the  sliip  was  fast 
leaviui;  in  the  raj;iiig  waters.  Not  a  sound  was  heard, 
except  tlie  hurried  loosinj;  and  mamiing  of  the  boats 
lor  the  rescue,  in  which  every  moment  seemed  an  hour. 
Somewhere  in  those  crested  waves  wliich  danced  and 
ran  in  a  hurryinj;  tiunult  was  a  human  heinj;,  strut;- 
j;liny;  or  drownini;  in  desperate  resi<;nation.  Par  olT, 
the  ])oat,  tossed  upon  the  waters,  took  her  course  for 
the  sliip.  All  hoi>e  was  abandoned,  and  we  were  left 
to  reaii/e  in  .silence  that  a  fellow-creature  had  j^one  to 
his  last  account.  We  were  c;dled  to  contennilate  the 
desjxiir  of  ir.an  and  tlu."  my.stery  of  the  .sea. 

The  reinainiui;  incidents  of  the  voyai;e  were  tame 
and  usual.  The  mo;un*nv?  of  the  ship's  horn  in  the 
"  };loomy  doubts"  of  the  foj;^,  the  starllini;  appearance 
of  the  iceber.u;  wliich  lay  at  the  windward  of  us  and 
solemnly  made  ils  way  to  that  destruction  from  which 
we  sped,  the  ship  at  sea  which  we  si^^nalled  and  whose 
ti(lini;s  were  unimportant — these  thin;.;s  made  up  the 
ordinary  sea-voya};e.  JUit  there  is  an  hour  when  the 
f;unili.ir  headland  api)ears  in  the  far-off  hori/.on,  and 
the  charm  of  that  .scene  wliere  "  his  islands  lift  "  their 
welcome  hills  and  <;roves  anil  warm  your  heart,  and  the 
familiar  fishicrnuui  steers  his  swift  .schooner  close  to  the 
stern  of  your  ship,  and  the  spires  of  the  city  loom  and 
glisten  in  the  sun,  and  the  gilded  dome  shines  in  the 
morning  light,  and  you  realize  that  at  last  you  liave 
reached  the  desired  haven,  Boston.  In  an  hour  I  was 
in  Salem,  and  my  diplomatic  career  had  come  to  an  end. 


APPENDIX. 


All  explanation  of  the  vigiietle  oti  the  title-page,  the 
magpie,  can  be  found  on  j^age  37. 

The  death  of  Prince  Napoleon,  George  Torlades 
O'Neill,  and  De  Matlos  has  taken  place  since  these 
pages  were  written. 

The  financial  condition  of  Portugal  is  variously 
stated.  The  debt  in  18S2,  accoriling  to  the  best  au- 
thorities, amounted  to  $392,775,000.  In  discussing 
this  indebtedness  it  is  now  declared  that  it  has  risen 
from  about  $40o,ooo,o(X)  in  1S75  to  nearly  $70<),CKX),f)C)0 
at  present.  Tlie  deficit  estimated  for  the  current  year 
is  upwards  of  $2,000,000  ;  and  but  for  the  controversy 
with  ICngland,  a  Portuguese  loan  of  $5(),(xx),ooo  would 
have  been  negotiated  last  year  in  the  London  market, 
based  on  a  govcnnncJit  monopoly  of  the  tobacco  manu- 
facture. It  appears  that  it  was  not  a  want  of  rt-sources, 
but  a  want  of  harmony,  whicli  prevented  this  loan. 

The  debt  of  Spain  was  $2, 504,74s, 370  in  1S82  ; 
of  Italy,  $2, 042, OCX), 000  ;  of  France,  $-1, 750,337, 109, 
according  to  the  returns  of  that  year. 


307 


INDEX. 


Abbot,  Abicl,  6 
APfonso,  Prince,  49,  59,  76 
AfTonso  VI.,  76 
Africa,  South,  85 
A^av-^i/.  3(\  193 
Ailsa,  Mar(iiiis  of,  63 
Ajuda,  4,  8,  154-58 
Ail)uinier(jiie,  37 
AIc(il)ai,a,  89,  98,  144-49 
Alcimjucr,  94 
Alcvaiiilor,  'jSS 
Alivandcr  \'I.,  2t 
Al^;arvf>,  (>(> 
Alliaiiilira,  35 
Aljuharriiia,  95 
AlniiMi  <lo  Carlliapcna,  23 
Alvaro,  I  )i>in,  72,  73 
AintTiian  statcMiioii,  204 
.\!i<lrailc  Amiiardo,  285 
Aiiclrailc,  I'lciie  de,  69 
Andrea  del  Sarto,  25 
Aii^;..la,  58 
Aii^oiilcnic,  18 
Adsta.  Didxc  d',  82 
Apple  Wry,  47 
Araliitlos,  32 
(\riiolil.  Sir  l".dwii\,  6 
Ascut,  2 

I) 

l?ai!ajns,  247 

Hariiahy,  I'nl')  dc,  37 

Itarros  (lyines,  Signor,  35,  36 


r.a'n.lpa,  100 

Heckcf,  Tltoinan  i^,  too 

Uetkford,  124,  131 

r-elein,  05,  80 

IViiitica,  Church  of,  66 

Hey,  Aristarclii,  14 

I'iarritz,  19 

r.lack,  William.  6 

lilaiiie,  James  Ci.,  1S6 

I>oiiapartc,  l.ctitia,  83 

)!(>nliam,  Sir  ( Icur^e,  63,  285 

I'xirdeaiix.  1 8 

l!>)taiiy  <if  Mmitserratc,  I27 

I'.culan^er,  13 

It'iunimiil,  95 

I5(niin.  ( Invuiiior,  2l6 

lira^a.  ()5 

l!'aj;an/a,  57.  77,  78 

l!ra^aii/a,  ll'itcl,  27 

Hra/il.  77,  191-196 

lirites,  1  )i>na,  95 

I'r(n\L',liam,  ryt 

lirow  iiiiiL;,  213 

iJryce.  5 

lirycu,  I.iiiyd,  6 

I'.ldl-li^li!,  140-42 

I'.iiukei    Hill,  92 

I'.urgMs  20,  23,  24 

Hyroii,  Lord,  9,  108 


Ca.li/.  226 

("aiimens.   107,  loS 

CajT  C.-l,  4S 

Cape  (if  Cudil  llopo,  30 


3'>J 


310 


INDLX. 


Carlos,  Dom,  3^,  37,  76 

(':irlic|^ic,  5 

C.'irnot,  I'rcsidciit,  17 

(.'asl•.^t•'^,  7(1,  2<>I 

(asiehir,  2.|o,  r.4i 

Ca-iik-.  21 

("avtr>>,  I)()in  Aharodc,  70 

Cislro,  I  )())ii  f  iari'iiv  <lc,  Cj 

Castro,  Doiii  Juliii  (Ic,  54,  (/},  ()i), 

"?.  I  33 
("a^Uo,  I  >()in  l.ni'^  <lc,  73 
C'a^tri),  i)ima  Inc/.  dc,  70,  91^ 
('a^^ro,  Seiilior  I.uoiaiui  dc,  1S4 
Cliainlicrlaiii,  linn.  J.,  7 
(.'iKiiiiln-rlniii,  Mrs..  7 
(.'haiiil/cT  i)f  I  >(.-]nitics,  13 
Cli  Midinrd.  Clialcaii  de,  l3 
riianliT,  W'iiilliroj),  213 
('liaiIiMiia;;Mc,  121 
(  Italics,  I'lmiitTKr,  71 
(liatlfs  v.,  2t 
(id,  21 
Cinlia,  2-^,  2"),  51,  t;^,  7^,91,  1 20, 

I.V),   I  |o 
(  ivila  \  {■<  1  Ilia.  'jii» 
(lew  land   l;.i)v,  H 

<  ly.l.-,  (.1 

<  l)dc-daks.  H 
CnaHifs.  2')  I 

<  ■niiidira,  <)4,  i<».} 

Cnllairs,   4S 

Cillnhianu,  2:^5 

Ciindcsialilf,  23 

{■"iiij^o,  85 

<'oiiliiiiin,  I)(ina  I.conor  dc,  71* 

Conway,  Mniiciirc  I).,  217 

Cniivcnt  <if  St.   Icr<niic,  80 

(.!<)iil<,  Sir  i'raiui'^,  63,  6S,  132,  136 

Cork  Convfiit,  63,  72,  1 33 

Coronation  Ceremonies,  169-179 

Coriiiina,  92,  <;'') 

Cotta.  Cluvalicr.  137,  2S5 

Curtis,  229 


I? 


Vii  M alios,  2^6 
I)c  'r<M.<|in;villc,  J 


Derby,  Cicorpe,  147 

h'Kti,  Count,  164 

HiiintT  to  (Mriccrsof  White  S(iuad- 

ron,  1O7,  lOS 
Dio,  71 

I  >om  AfTonso  ncnri<|iies,  35,  94 
!  )oni  ,\ffons<)  VI.,  31 
DoiM  .\ii^;usto,  56,  59 
I  )om  Dini/,  94 
Domesday  I'ook,  6 
Doni    I'eriKindo,    2t,    3U,    ^(),    84, 

Dom  lo:V)  I.,  95 

Doni  Jolin,  57 

Doni  lohii  ].,  37 

Dom  lolni  III!,  ?it 

Dom  "lolm  IV.,  5S 

I)om  loliii  v.,  58 

Dom  Joso  V,,  32 

Dom  I.iiis  I.,  57,  Oi),  76,  79 

Dom  Manoel,  311,  35,  (/>,  80 

I  )om   Manoel   lidanln,  165 

Don;  Mi^;nel,  e,H,  59,  73,  95 

I  »om  SaiH  !io,  9  J 

I  loiiii   lit  iilri' ,  ■,! 

I  Ion  10,  </.!,  97 

DiyiliM,  7 

I  >iil(irin,   I  ady,  213 


iv 


I'.amcs,  Miss,  13 
I'.dinlMiijdi,   i)nkc  of,  8t 
iidla,  ( 'oniiless,  3<) 
i;ilfei  Tower,   \(i 
i:il-e.  I 

HI  Cofrc  del  Cid,  23 
I'.iDcrson,   l<al](li  \Val<lo,  155 
I'"sse\  (,'onnty,  63 
lv\])osilion,  I  aris,  15 

!•• 

Farratjnl,  74,  75 
i'cr<linand  tlic  Catholic,  80 
i'icalhi),  Count,  I  84 
Field,  ( (smiod,  213 
Foiilon,  2b 5 


INIMiX. 


Jit 


]•  nil  rill  nf  July,  ?r> 
iTaiuisc'i  <lu  Castro,  74 
Fimclial,  M.irclifsa  ilc,  37 


dalli,  Count  and  Countess,  17 
Cama,  hum  l-'.stcvan  do,  70,  75 
Ciardiii  Party  at  I'.lysi'cs,  17 
(iairisun,  Mrs.  Coinimxloru,  6 
( ici'^;r;\|iliical  Society,  2<;5 
Celtysliurj;,  25 
Cil-rallar.  Straits  of,  31,  (/) 
CdiL-y,  Mr..  8 
Cdadsi-m;,  \V.  V..,  5,  13 
C.oa,  71 

Cmcdil-I.annoy,  285 
Cmiik"-,  S.  Coi'llio,  137 
(■..itliif  Cathedral,  21 
( iraiil,  ( ieiirral,  75 
<  '.riat  I'.iar,  (t.\,  '-'(K) 
CmIU',  Kot^iur,  285 

It 

Hair.  )■:,  1;,,  iH(. 

IIi.ii.l.uri;li,  HS 
Ilawtlioriic,  2117,  216 
Henry,  Hon.  Miiclx-ll,  207 
Hcrcfords,  8 
Hint/  Kolifiro.  28.} 
Hotfman.  Mr.  and.  Mrs.,  j.\ 
Holiinzoilern,  I'rincc,  8t 
1  (uni|ilirics,  28 
I  liiiitini.'.iun,  (!,  I'.,  14 
Hunter,  Jolin,  4 
Hyde  I'ark,  91 


India,  6f> 
Indian  Oeean,  65 

J 

Jay,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Augustus,  14 
Jesuits,  77 
Junol,  58,  92 


K 

Kerrys,  8 
Kinj:,  49 
Kinj.^s!ey,  Canon,  3 


I.adv  V'ranklin,  29 

I.ady  Pel  re,  j(> 

I.andor,  213 

Law  ton,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  6 

Legation,  V.  S.,  28 

Leon,  21 

I.eiiiKudo  da  Vine;.  31; 

l,<;\\enliauiit.  Count  and  Countess, 

14 

Lieliienslein,  i^ 

I.ishon,  27.  2\  (k\,  C.5,  SS,  91 

l,is|i..u.  anli<|iiilieH  of,  247  ;  cliur. 
elies  of,  250,  2?2  ;  lilerattiie  of, 
253,  254  ;  I'alaeev  of,  257,  258  ; 
S'H'ares  of,  2^f> 

l.oj^an,  Mrs,  Jn!,u  A.,  f) 

i.ondoi;.  2.  3'  28 

Loren/o  Man|ueH,  283 

l.orihi;.  ^i^s.,  ^(> 

I.umI.',   I  till  e  <.if.  3? 

I.MUvll,  j.   U.,  ISO 

l.o\\tll,  Pen  ival,  129 

I.Yltoii,  Lord,  29 

M 

Madrid.  21,  25.  2<'>.  28 

Mafra,  -^o,  31,  14,  9! 

Maine,  4^ 

Maraidiani,  58 

Marl.leliead.  48 

Maria,  1  >oi)a.  So 

?>laria  (ilxria.  57,  ?9,  S4 

Maria  I'ia,  3'^) 

Marii;  .\nieli<;  (I'Orleans,  36 

Masirr  of  Avi/.  '|C 

Mis  liiiwer,  74,    7? 

Me<iilerraneaii,  88 

Mt   Ixll^H,     I  I   I 

Meiiile/  Vi^v,  285 


3t2 


INDS-X. 


>toriil.'\,  236 
Micliacl  Aii^;clo,  25 
Miguel,  I)<^in,  187 
Miranda,  lf)7 

M'mt|)CPMcr,  Duke  <lc,  81,  82 
Mii'irc.  Sir  johii,  «^2 
Modrish  J'.iliKC,  2<; 
M-.r^^.m.  J.  S..  7 
Murlcy.  J.-liii.  (< 
Mdrt'Mi,  Mrs.  L.  1'.,  13 
Murill...   25 
Murray,  (Jciicral,  93 

N 

Nfipicr,  Sir  Clinrlts,  r/i 

Napli..,  207,  2<)<; 

Napulffiii,  53 

Najiolcon,  rrince,  213,  214 

Ni-ix-svida'U-s,  I'a)fiti'>  das,  59 

Nelson,  (/),  2'H 

Ncvill,  Ilcnry,  13^ 

Ni-vv,  <'i)nsul-<i(.-iicral,  6 

New  Mrs,,  (, 

Ncwjtnit,  ";(> 

Ncy,  <)2 

Niiodcnius,  23 

Nit/a,  Dona  I^upchie  <le,  37 

N'lrcnilia,  l)i>na  l.coiior  dc,  69 

Norway,  64 

O 

O'Noill,  (Icorjje  Torladcs,  286 

<  >i>orlo,  92.  93 

Orleans,   18 

Crncllas,  Aj;ostino  de.  2S4 

Olib,  Mr.  and  Mrs..  14 

r 

V.il.ice  of  HetTi]>osta,  iSo 

I'alaic  of  Montscrrate,  12S-132 

I'alni'.Tston,  91 

i'alincr.  U.  S.  Minister,  26 

J'.inthcon,  83 

Paris,  2H 

I'edro,    Dimi,     ICx-I'liniicror,     1^4, 

I'edro  IV,.  57 

I'cdro,  'I'lie  (.'rinl,  70,  99 


I'edro  v.,  59 

I'ena,  29 

I'etia  Loiifja,  55 

I'ernainhuco,  58 

i'etrc.  Sir  (k'orfje  (ilynn,  285 

i'liili|»  !!.,  2(>,  57 

I'liilij'Iia,  i<Kj 

I'iikerin}^;,  Jolin,  28 

I'ickinan,  27 

I'oictiers,  iS 

I'oiilii  s  of  I'ortugal,  263 

I'olled  Angus,  8 

I'olo  (Ic  J!arnai)e,  285 

I'onilial.  KX).  1 13 

I'ope,  Canon,  i  3') 

Po'tcr,  {}.  S.  .Minister.  213 

I'ortugal,  27,  28.  31 

1  ortugnese  I'.atlles,  102,  103 

i'orluguesc  (.'onsiitutiim,  277 

i'orliiguisf  Village,  15') 

rorliign<;sc  I'ohsessions,  289 

I'oMssin,   25 

l'o\\<'r  of  tlic  King,  182 

I'ride  of  I'h-el,  8 

i'rime  Albert,  57 

i'rince  Levulitenberg,  57 

I'rince  of  Wales.  9 

I'rince  William  Henry,  147 

I'riory,  32 

rullnian,  M  iss,  2 

Pyrenees.  I9,  31 


'.>uincy.  President,  2or 
fjuinla  das  Lagriinas.  I12 

K 
\  Ranio.<:,  2SO 
Kecojlcts,  90 
Kci<l,  Wliitelaw,  13 
kepidilic,  I'orluguesc,  289 
Kodney,  96 
Kodrigo  de  Bivar,  94 
Koliia,  92 
K.isly,  2h^ 

koy:il  Ag.iicultural  Society,  7 
Rubens,  25 


INDEX. 


313 


Salisbury,  I.ady,  7 
Salishury,  Lord,  7,  202 
San   rc<lr().  liaroii,  284 
San  S<.!)astiaii.  19 
Santarein.  (;.|,  1 17 
Scotlaiul,  63 

Scliavtiaii  <lil  rininl>o,  23 
Scliasli.in,  San,  57,  72 
Seville,  227,  236 
Serpa,  Madame  de,  184 
Sherwood,  Mrs.,  14 
Sloane.   I  laTis,  4 
Sinilli,  (Jolihvin,  186 
Soult.  ty2,  <)3 
Soiitliain|ilnii,  I 
S|iaiii.  27 

Spra^ne,  Consul,  204 
Sjiuller,  M..  14 
.Stanley.  <><i 

Stanley,   hcan,  2 

Stanton   Hero,  8 

Stcinl.oc  k,  '.'Ss 

Steplieii.  Leslie,  305 

Stevens,   \i.  I'".,  0 

.St.  I'erdinand,  21 

St.  I'rancis  .Xavier.  54,  74 

St.   Irene.  1 17 

St.    lanies.  Court  of,  7S 

St.  .MariaV  Day,  53 

St.  .Martin's  .Sunitncr,  I18 

Storv,   Mrs.  213 

Story.  W.  \V.,  147,  iftO,  211 

St.  N'ineent.  Church  <.>f,  61 

St.  N'incente  de  Fora,  8! 

Suffulkb.  8 

r 

Taf^us,  27,  30,  65 
'l"ant;ier,  70,  221 


Tarifft,  202 

Telles,  Dona  I.eonor,  109" 
'I'honmr,  1 16 
'lintoretto,  25 

Titaiiia,  63 
Titian,  25 

Torres  \edras,  30,  58,  90,  9I 
■{'ours,  iS 

l  lafal^ar.  ;/»,  202 

U 

University  of  CoirnI)ra,  105 
Urraea,  31 


Vftnnulclli,  Monsigncur,  61 
Vasco  de  (Jania,  30,  65 
\'<la'-i|ne/,   25 
\i(lor  Lmanucl,  3^ 
Viiloria,  <.>iieeii,  <•.  9I 
Vidi^neria,  (id 
\'illa  llor,  ContiC  de.  95 
Voisin,  Ceneral,  81 


\V 


( 


Wacckcr  Cotter,  Haron  de,  285 
Waterloo,  25,  i)0,  <)i 
Well'.-ley.  Sir  Arlluir,  58 
Weliinj^ton,  Duke  of,  90 
Werfen,  (■cneral,  81 
Westminster  Abhey,  2 
\\  hiitier,  John  li..  2,  l6f) 
Wilhor.  27,  286 
Wilson,  Jacol),  9 
Wytkc,  Sir  i'cter,  69 


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